


When Life Gives You Eggs

by I_try_not_to_think_about_it



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Actually has plot, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Mortal, And motivated, Broadway References, F/M, Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I re-read the HoO series during a school break and this just happened, I wrote part of this while still at school and it shows, M/M, Not as cringe as it sounds trust me, So there you go, Will is super sweet, Will-centric, Yes it's taken me ages, fuck buddies essentially, mentions sex but is not explicit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-04-24 16:16:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19176880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_try_not_to_think_about_it/pseuds/I_try_not_to_think_about_it
Summary: 'Sometimes I think it would be easier to get people to sign friendship contracts just so they know what the premises of our relationship are. It became awfully tiring caring for people more than they cared for you.'Will had almost always known he'd graduate high school then study further to become an anesthetist. That was just the plan. Of course, life always loves to throw you the odd curve ball (some bigger than others). Unfortunately for Will life seems to have decided it's a fucking high speed tennis ball machine.*Title is from 'Something Rotten!', not my own*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Any questions/comments/suggestions/constructive criticism is hugely welcome, please let me know x

You see, the thing is that I have this obsession with rules. I’m crazy about them. If there’s a rule, guarantee I’ll follow it. Like this one time in middle school I found out about the ‘black, closed-in leather shoe’ rule that was never really enforced and point blank refused to go to class until I had a pair. Of course, I was breaking the rule of compulsory school attendance, but I didn’t think about that at the time. I mean, I don’t particularly enjoy being that one person who always does as they’re told but it’s like some sort of compulsion and I just can’t help it. It always seems that if I start going against the rules when am I going to know when to stop? I could end up in jail in Austria before I even realised things were getting out of hand!

It’s like that with my social skills, or rather, lack thereof. I’m not so bad now, but I used to be. I was just terrible at talking to people my own age, I’d always get stuck at family parties talking to weird uncles and so my existing social skills just suffered more. Except, all social interaction is based on rules, you learn the rules, customise them so they actually make sense (half the social rules don’t make sense and are dumb which is why I didn’t figure this out for so long), and you’re off. Or at least, that’s how it was with me.

My older sister Kaylor always used to think I was on the autism spectrum on account of the rule thing and also how much I sucked at making friends (she wanted to be a psychologist for a while and would go around ‘diagnosing’ people with anything under the sun). Of course, it’s a load of codswallop because any official diagnosis would have been useless to me, but she did have a point. But I used to have these phases I would go through where I would become real obsessed with something. Trains, Pirates, ‘Harry Potter’, stuff like that. Right now, it was musicals. Not just a casual thing either but a true rabbit hole of atrocious belting and impromptu dance breaks. I digress.

The story I actually want to tell started in junior year High School. I’ve decided to write it down because a) I’m sentimental like that and b) it’s a freaking weird, novel plus feature film adaption worthy autobiographical story. I’ll start on the first Friday night of January because I remember that night pretty well. Now the reason I remember it so well is because I hadn’t cut my hair in a while, so it kept falling in my eyes. I have this really annoyingly golden, curly hair which I generally keep rather long. Not because I like it that way or because it looks particularly good like that, I just forget to get the damn stuff cut.

Now, it’s come to the point where I need to explain that I used to spend Friday evening’s at Nico’s house. I’d arrive, invite myself in, we’d (brace yourself) have sex, and then I’d leave. I know. Shocking. It was a kind of ‘no strings attached friends with benefits’ thing. Except we weren’t friends. So just the benefits and stringless glory. We scarcely uttered a single word to one another, save a stiff hello on occasion, like thanking the bus driver - kinda weird but necessary feel. Perhaps there were incomprehensible, half formed sentences that weren’t really meant for one another during the act. I don’t totally remember. This arrangement had been in place for some time. We went to the same school but didn’t share any classes. And that was how it was. Simple, yet bafflingly strange. Strange for me at any rate.

Don’t go getting any ideas, I’ll be the first one to tell you I have no game whatsoever. None. I’m basically Anakin Skywalker ‘I don’t like sand’ level flirting. Which is why the fact this actually happened to me is so noteworthy.

Anyway, I was having to brush my hair out of my eyes a heap and roughly cover Nico’s mouth with the other hand to stop him moaning and all because his younger half-sister was home. I’d never met her, but had a few close shaves in which crisis was, fortunately, averted. Her presence downstairs did add to the excitement; we were forbidden lovers, having to take every fleeting opportunity that was presented to us before erasing the signs of our union.

I brushed Nico’s own dark hair out of his eyes. Not, as I realised, that there was much point, his eyes were closed anyway, his hands balled into fists as he grasped at the bed sheets. His hair had also grown long over the past few months. It was almost past his shoulders. Of course, I hadn’t asked why he’d chosen to let it grow, but it did look good that way. Sort of rugged and unkept.

The room was dark save the pale moonlight that managed to peak through the blinds and illuminate our naked bodies, each dripping with sweat and savouring the intimate moment. Kind of like those statues you see carved out of marble and frozen in time together. When they look so real you don’t want to intrude but still can’t drag your eyes away. Nico’s back was arched in ecstasy and his deep olive skin glistened, eyes still shut tight and awareness heightened.

I came too quickly for any real thoughts to form coherently. I pulled out shortly after Nico came, still panting and staggering around in search of a cloth. After all this time you’d think he’d learn to leave a cloth out or at least have them in the same place each week but no, instead I was forced to search all the draws. I finished cleaning up and roughly pulled on my clothes from earlier that evening. I left without a word, Nico’s languid gaze eliciting a faint tingling sensation on my back as it followed me out of the door, making my way home.

I liked how I was with Nico. Sort of bold, attractive, alive. I liked how it felt to escape it all, just for a short time. A mayfly, living and dying over the course of those evenings. I liked getting to be someone else for a bit. I also liked routines, and this Friday night ‘hang out’ was nothing if not routine. Did I want more from the relationship you may ask, well sure I found Nico attractive, after all I went back to the guys house week after week, but considering I hardly even knew him the answer had to be no. I’d gotten curious a while ago but apparently Nico was as mysterious in real life and on social media as he was in my mind.

I sighed, turning off the shower, suddenly engulfed by the silence in my own house. I remember thinking Nico had probably stopped thinking about me the instant I left his place an hour earlier, before sitting down to my chemistry study.


	2. Chapter 2

“Time sure flies when you’re in hell”

I allowed myself to laugh at Cecil’s joke as we left the maths building. It had been warm out. Uncomfortably so, and it sure felt like we were in hell considering the number of assignments that had piled up over the past few weeks. As much as I loved learning and being busy, I struggle to concentrate and detest being overloaded.

“Hey, wanna come study at my place tomorrow?” Cecil turned to me as we sat at the lunch table. We ate in this little secluded part of school where people only went to smoke when they were wagging class. It was shielded by the PE building and this ginormous tree that was in a constant state of looking terminally ill. Sometimes I’d look at the kids skipping out of the bio class window and wonder what it was that could make a person so lax about school yet still attend. Out of literally any other place, why would you wag on school grounds? If you asked anyone over the age of seventy, probably something about our generation being lazy.

I turned my attention back to Cecil’s question, rolling my eyes. “So you can trick me into playing League with you again? No thank you.”

Lou Ellen slipped into the seat opposite us, the usual scheming grin plastered on her face, “Sounds like another typical Cecil idea. Besides, Will can’t go to your house because we have a date tomorrow.”

“Wow Lou, you should have told me we were dating, consent it key. Also, I might have made an effort to stop ignoring everything you say.”

It was Lou’s turn to roll her eyes as I stifled a giggle into my hand, “I’m just trying to make Pesach sound more fun.”

Cecil scowled into the distance. “Can you hear something Will?”

I cupped a hand to my ear for dramatic effect. “Merely the sound of your melodious voice, Cecil.” 

Lou Ellen scoffed, searching for cutlery in her bag to eat her salad with. “I actually cannot believe you are still mad at me for saying ‘orgasm’ Cecil, we aren’t middle schoolers. And besides, you just had double math, isn’t your tiny brain fried?”

“I’m /trying/ to preserve Will’s innocence here, it’s for the greater good.”

My friends had this ridiculous on running joke that we were all long lost siblings of which I was the youngest and thus needed to be ‘protected from anything that may threated my purity’. The irony was not lost on me. Also, I was the eldest of us all yet that never seemed to be an issue either.

Lou scoffed once again. “Oh come off it, the entire school knows you’re a virgin anyways Cecil, quit trying to shelter Will to make up for your own feelings of inadequacy.”

I nodded in agreement, always ready to go above and beyond when it came to embarrassing either of my friends. “Besides, I’m a bio student so I know all about that kind of stuff.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively for added effect and Cecil flung his hands in the air out of desperation.

“But bio isn’t sex Ed William!”

Lou and I laughed as Cecil covered his blushing face with his hands.

~*~

That afternoon I walked home with ‘The Last Five Years’ blasting through my earphones. It was honestly a miracle I didn’t cry. Most of the time I can just not listen to the last few songs of a musical (*cough, cough* ‘Falsettos’, ‘Dear Evan Hansen’, ‘Next to Normal’, ‘Rent’, ‘Bare: A Pop Opera’) and I’ll be fine but The ‘Last Five Years’ is brutally sad the entire time. Maybe it was just the pressure of being in public or the fact I only got a few songs in because my house isn’t far from my school. I don’t know. Whatever it was, I was grateful.

My house is pretty small. I would say cosy because it’s less harsh then ‘small’ but when I think cosy I think old lady’s house with doilies and cats. While I have no qualms with old ladies, doilies, or cats for that matter it’s not a great description of my house. So, it’s a single story, A-shaped, red brick looking thing with a green roof and gate. There’s a hedge which is a weird combination of overgrown and dead because, lets be real, no one’s top priority is gardening, not even the hosts on gardening shows or professional landscapers.

Inside is pretty clutter free because only two of us live there and neither mum nor I have much stuff. We’ve got plenty of photos though. Wood furnishing and photos is a pretty good summary of the interior actually. Considering I grew up with so many siblings it’s nice to have a reminder that while they are many miles away they can still be close to heart. This can be a double edge sword though because seeing their faces also reminds me they’re not as close as before.

I dig through our refrigerator. We have one of those old kitchens with the mustard yellow tiles and ineffective use of storage space. Plus, no microwave. Our old one broke down near on four years ago and we didn’t bother replacing it. So, there I am making a sandwich when mum appears at the kitchen counter.  
“Make me one too would you Will.”

I smiled. Mum had a nice voice, like bells. She used to perform at amateur country music events before I was born and she went to uni.

“How come you’re home?” I ask, “Don’t you have that luncheon thing with one of your clients?”

She nodded, taking a bite of an apple she’d retrieved from the fruit basket on the bench. “It finished about a half hour ago.”

I topped the sandwiches off with some lettuce. I had sandwich rules as well, surprise, surprise. Lettuce must always be the top ingredient, the tomato couldn’t touch the bread (it gets soggy otherwise okay), meat must touch cheese, but cheese cannot touch tomato, any other ingredients cannot destabilise the structural integrity of the sandwich.

I brought my attention back to my mother as I handed her the plates to set on the table. “How’d it go?”

“Yeah it went well. I was sitting next to this geologist whose glasses kept falling off into his food which was difficult not to laugh at.”

I chocked on a mouthful of sandwich. “That’s awesome. You should’ve filmed it.”

Mum grinned. “Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. Do you have much on tonight?”

I shrugged. “Just the usual.”

‘The usual’ meant getting home at three and doing school work until about seven when I would have dinner. After that it was either piano practice or cleaning. I should establish I’m rubbish at piano, my old teacher told me I had no hope of improving even if I practiced twenty hours a day and that I should focus on things I was more suited to. I changed teachers after that but she honestly wasn’t wrong.

“You should relax a little, don’t overwork yourself.” Mum was always nagging me about overworking myself which I thought was pretty hypocritical.

“I won’t get into med school by relaxing.”

She smiled at that, lifting her sandwich as if about to take a bite before thinking twice and placing it back on her plate.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

Mum and I talked a lot. It was one of my favourite things. But this formal tone didn’t bode well with me.

“What?” I asked, placing my own sandwich down. Behaviour mirroring is one of my favourite social rules.

Mum checked her watch, a nervous habit of hers. “Well, I know it’s just you and me most of the time, but your father still has a legal right to see you.”

I groaned. “Yes, I’m painfully aware.”

Mum laughed a little at that. Just a short, breathy laugh, not the real thing. She checked her watch again. “Anyway, he messaged me, and he wants you to spend Christmas with his family.”

“But I was over there last Christmas!”

“I know darling, but I’ll make sure it’s only a few days this time.”

I scowled down at my sandwich. “I seriously don’t want to go. He just has me over so I can babysit for him then ignores me the rest of the time.”

Mum checked her watch again, she’d heard all this before “Look I really have to get back to work Will, but I promise we’ll work something out later. Although I don’t see you getting out of it entirely, he was pretty insistent.”

I continued to scowl at my food as if it were the source of my problems. There was no way I should have to leave my own mother by herself during Christmas again. It wasn’t right. Why should I have to stay with a man who had nothing better to do than put me down and brag about how good his life was now instead of someone I loved? Isn’t that what Christmas is supposed to be about? Love? Besides commercialism and Jesus that is. I knew I would cry later that evening. No wonder my eyes had remained so dry while walking home, fate had already compiled this cruel twist. I needed to stay strong, this was not a problem, simply a challenge.

Mum cleared up her plate and kissed me on the forehead before grabbing her keys and bag “I love you darling.”

“Love you too mum.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the weeks following, I was worked to exhaustion. Slowly, things started to cool down as far as homework was concerned but unfortunately the same could not be said for the weather. It was hot. Hotter than the Sahara Desert. Hotter than the surface of the god damn sun. Such extreme temperatures never failed to put every sleep deprived teen at school on edge. Needless to say, my time volunteering in the medical wing had been occupied by students injured in hallway scuffles and organised fist fights. Shaky videos and personal recounts were traded like tobacco, peaking the interest of students and even some teachers in and out of classes. I thought it all incredibly immature. When did fighting ever get people anywhere? Naturally, a score of examples from history sprung to mind but I chose to ignore them, preferring to take the moral high ground because I knew I’d last probably negative two seconds in an actual fight.

It was 3pm. School was let out an hour prior, but I’d stayed behind for feedback on my English draft which had been nearly 300 words over the limit. Now, I want you to know that I didn’t hate English, as many students claimed to, but I didn’t love it or anything either. Granted, it was useful, but there was only so many times I could read a novel which was boring as all hell and whip up an 800 word essay the night before it was due by paraphrasing SparkNotes for a teacher who thought they were the bard himself. Okay, so maybe I hated it a little, but that didn’t mean I was about to lie down and accept grades that would lower my average.

Anyway, my school was basically one big maze of conjoined hallways and floors. You always had to know the fastest way to go in order to get anywhere on time. The English faculty ended where the fine arts faculty began and that was the fastest way to the bus stop. So, I was forced to navigate my way through this emo breeding ground in order to escape the building. The arts faculty was indeed a strange place. While there never appeared to be any students around, one need only peer into a classroom to see students huddled in circles sculpting or playing instruments at any time of day. Literally, any time. I once came into school at six in the afternoon for a titration competition and the music students were /still/ rehearsing. In addition, there was nearly always someone smoking or crying in the bathroom, like some weed-obsessed Moaning Myrtle resided there. The hallways were gloomy yet the practice rooms full and bright. Maybe it was an artist thing, reclusiveness, your own idiom no outsider could understand. I didn’t know, to quote myself, I have shit all artistic talent.

So, I was minding my own business, about to descend a flight of stairs when I thought I heard someone cry out, in pain or surprise, I couldn’t tell. Probably Moaning Myrtle. It came again. Surprisingly, the sound came from around a corner to my right, not the bathroom. Which meant that I couldn’t see who it was, and that someone probably wasn’t Myrtle. I weighed my options. The bus I had meant to catch was to leave in five minutes. For all I knew I could have had time to investigate and make it to the bus on time. I stalled on the top step, waiting to hear more. Someone flung a few insults and my curiosity got the better of me. It generally does.  
Down the hall where two figures having a brawl. It was a strange sight, just the two of them in an empty corridor. The larger one seemed to be dominating the fight but the smaller was faster and more agile. I winced as a fist connected with a nose, it was painful to watch yet mildly transfixing, kind of like watching videos of volcanoes erupting, chaotic throes which are in some backward way incredibly satisfying.

I briefly thought to call for help but figured it would only get the two, tougher looking guys suspended. Then they might hunt me down and try killing me in some dark, dreary alleyway in a different state after louring me there with their mafia families and then I would be immortalised as a cautionary tale for students everywhere. In the way teachers always told the story of that kid who lent too far back in their chair and fell off and became a paraplegic. Will, the stich whose dismembered body got stuffed in a suitcase and sent to Florida. In summary, it wouldn’t be good.

For a moment it looked as if the smaller figure was going to triumph. It was David and Goliath, they dodged a punch to the head and tripped the taller figure. However, the other quickly regained composure and before the smaller could react, they were pinned tightly against the wall.

The larger figure’s growl echoed off the empty hall “I’ll let you get away with it this time di Angelo, but don’t think you can mess with my family again. You got that?”

Nico squirmed and spat on the guys foot in response, a creative technique. “In your dreams asshole. There’s no way Paolo would stand a chance against me if he was brave enough to pick his own fights, and you’re the only one dumb enough to stick up for him.”

“Don’t push it kid, I know what you did.”

“Where’d you get that line from? Some forties cop film?” Apparently cop films from the forties were the yard stick for unoriginal threats.

The taller figure allowed his grip to slacken, punching Nico half-heartedly in the stomach before stalking off in the opposite direction. Nico watched him go before sliding to the ground, groaning as he reached the floor.

I wasn’t sure what I should do. My social rule guide didn’t seem to cover the situation. I tried thinking logically, get a nurse and risk Nico getting suspended? Turn around and act like I hadn’t seen anything? Ask Nico if he needed help and inevitably embarrass myself so much that I’d have to change my name and move to Morocco?

The decision was eventually made for me when Nico spoke bitterly. “Either help me up or leave,” he lifted his head from where his gaze had been directed at the ground. I could see his nose was swollen already and he had a nasty gash on his cheek. “I don’t care just stop fucking watching me.”

“Umm…” I cleared my throat awkwardly. Awkward throat-clearing always seemed to happen to me. That and awkward handshakes.

“Oh, right, okay.” I rushed forwards and wrapped Nico’s arm around my shoulder, infirmary volunteering skills finally kicking in, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

~*~

I chanted to myself internally the whole time I was helping Nico onto the sink. It was kinda like 'This isn’t weird, this isn’t weird, oh God don’t make it weird Solace'. Of course it wasn’t weird, I was just patching up the guy I regularly had sex with, in a school bathroom, after having seen him in a fight when I shouldn’t have because the school day had finished. That and we never acknowledged one another’s existence. Really, it was fine.

Nico eyed me so sceptically it made me feel like /I/ was the one who had been in the shady fight on school property with some guy telling me they ‘know what I did’. He didn’t give any indication he knew me as I removed the medical supplies from my bag. The logical side of my brain was saying that it was because we didn’t really know each other, and Nico was probably just as awkward as I was about it. The other side of my brain said it was because Nico didn’t recognise me and thought I was just some weird guy who casually carried around scalpels and suspicious looking painkillers. So, I was conflicted.

We both remained quiet as I worked. Pouring the saline water capsule into a bag filled with swabs and swishing it around. I cleaned the cuts by wiping in only one direction along the edge before discarding the swab, like I’d been taught in First Aid classes. That was the best way to avoid infection. I covered the wounds with band-aids. I was generally fond of helping out with simple scrapes and bruises, sprains and the like. There were steps, you could just put a bandage on it or compression and ice and stuff and you were an unstoppable medical professional. It made it seem like anything could be patched up. A nice thought, laughable as it was.

I smiled at him nervously. “How do you feel?”

Nico remained straight faced. “Like shit”. I could have sworn his Italian accent was thicker than I remembered.

“You should probably put some ice on your nose when you get home. Twenty minutes on, twenty off every four hours for the first twenty-four hours. It’s pretty swollen so it’ll be tender for a few days.”

“Are you a doctor or something?” Nico raised an eyebrow, arms crossed like a defiant little kid, “Don’t order me around.”

I shrugged, volleying a question back “Are you always this argumentative?” I started packing my things away “get back to me in a week when your nose still looks like Cleopatra’s because you didn’t put ice on it.” I took an ancient history class once and I think I’m hilarious when I make references to the size of Cleopatra’s nose. Sure, there are probably plenty of historical figures with big noses, but I find Cleopatra’s the funniest.

There was this slight quirk in Nico’s lips as he hopped off the bench and turned to leave, calling over his scrawny shoulder, “Thanks Will.”

He said it like it was nothing. But to me, well, to me it felt like the world had stopped spinning or the Queen of England had died or something impossible like that.

“You know my name?” Yes, the delivery was as cringy as it looks on paper. It was probably a dumb thing to say too because the chance of him guessing correctly was pretty miniscule. But that’s what I said regardless.

He sort of paused in the doorway, hovering “Do you know mine?”

I scowled, I hate it when people ignored my questions. “Of course, Nico.” I said his name with extra emphasis to let him know damn well that I knew his name.

“Then what makes you think I wouldn’t know yours?”

That struck me as strange. He said it like it was an ordinary thing, but as most of the inhabitants at school could attest to, Nico was far from ordinary. He rarely spoke and always wore ripped black jeans held up by one of those studded goth belts, on his feet chunky lace up boots. The shaggy black hairstyle was not unlike that of a wild animal and he was rarely seen without charcoal nail polish and a cup of coffee in hand. I almost felt ashamed to admit that you would be wrong if you thought it didn’t make him look damn good. Don’t get me wrong, despite his rough exterior and seemingly endless supply of black T-shirts with obscure logos screaming ‘edgy teen’, his dedication to schoolwork and the system was quick to provide aggressive juxtaposition. Let me take a moment to explain that my super sleuthing skills had uncovered that Nico ran a study group and was a keen politics student. He was also on the debate team. Goes to show what can be achieved by reading the electronic newsletter. Anyhow, he wasn’t your average bear.

I gulped, like this would actually help me to focus and think of something to say. “I don’t know…I just thought…” I trailed off there, I seriously didn’t know what I thought. That I wasn’t good enough for Nico to ever want to acknowledge me? Yeah, probably.

“Being generally unapproachable doesn’t automatically make me an asshole.”

He hated basically the entire school and let them know it. That seemed like the kind of thing an asshole would do if you asked me. Not that I would know, I’m one of those people who just can’t hate most people if I tried. I have tried, in the past, to acquire a short list of people I don’t like but inevitably all the little things that made me dislike them in the first place grow on me and operation Normal High Schooler Will fails once again.

Anyway, Nico flashed me this snarky grin before stalking out the bathroom door, hands stuck deep in his pockets. “See you Friday!”

I looked at my deep blush in the mirror. So, he had recognised me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. I'm quite fond of this chapter but as always I love to get a second opinion. 
> 
> Stay safe guys and have a great day/night x


	4. Chapter 4

That week fizzled gently to a close and before I knew it, Friday came around.

This time, instead of leaving immediately after we finished, I collapsed dramatically next to Nico on the bed. Hopefully we could just talk a bit and when I left he wouldn’t hate me. Hopefully.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Nico’s eyes were closed but he gave no indication he desperately wanted me to go or anything. “Depends.”

“Okay well, when that guy the other day said the thing about you messing with his family or something, what did he mean?” I winced, having realised the sentence made a whole lot more sense in my head.

Nico sat pensively for a second before opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling “The guy who punched me, he graduated last year, big deal honours student. Taking a gap year before he goes to Yale. It’s his brother that I actually know, he’s in our year. Recently, I found out he was sleeping with a sports teacher from some other school. I made the mistake of telling him I knew. His older brother must have decided to wait for me after guitar practice, came up behind me and threw a punch before I even realised he was there.”

It seemed like a horrid yet weirdly specific situation, like there were little pieces missing. What had either of the brothers done in the first place? All the same, I made a mental note never to get on Nico’s bad side.

I cleared my throat. “What a coward” I said, with lack of anything better coming to mind.

“Yeah,” Nico said distantly.

I had to admit it was pretty cute, seeing Nico acting like some non-official karma administrator. Scary and cute. I studied him silently. His nose hadn’t swollen up like I’d thought it might. My gaze flicked to his strong jawline, skull ear piercing, sharp cheekbones. Suddenly, obsidian eyes bore into mine. I’ve always been a sucker for dark eyes. Like coffee or chocolate, or even the night sky, complete with pinpricks of sparkling stars. I thought Nico might ask me to stay, then we’d both be less lonely. Just for a bit. 

“Are you going to go or…?”

“Oh, right, right.” I rushed to get dressed before heading over to the door, the familiar tingling sensation on my back.

“Hey.”

I turned to face Nico who was still lying stretched out and naked there on the bed. He was so beautiful. Like a Michelangelo painting or something. Hope flittered dangerously in my chest.

“This doesn’t make us friends, alright?”

I nodded, a little crestfallen. “Yeah, alright.”

I looked back towards Nico whose expression remained neutral. “Goodnight Will.”

That’s when I left, tripping over the raised doorway a little as I did so. Why do we always want more than what we have?

~*~

I arrived home late that night. The walk usually took roughly thirty minutes (when I missed the bus, which might as well have been always) but this time, I took the scenic route. I needed time to think. Well, not time to think exactly, sometimes I just needed to do something relaxing and force my mind to be quiet. Like night-time walks. So it was a lack of thinking really. Little bits of ‘Les Misérables’ kept floating into my mind as I looked up at what could be seen of the stars. It was so soothing, being calm like that. For just a little while, totally in control, keeping my head above the water. The rustle caused by the wind allowed me to imagine I was walking along a beach someplace far away.

The house was dark and empty when I returned. I fumbled for my keys in the driveway where the yellow light of the streetlamp could struggle over to where I stood clutching my bag. I would never dare carry my keys, phone, or wallet around it my pocket. It was unsafe. Also, Lou Ellen always complained whenever items appeared out of my pockets because ‘sexism is spawned from men’s power to store things in their pockets while women are forced to carry handbags like a common packhorse, the system is bollocks’. So, I didn’t put anything in my pockets anymore and instead took an additional five minutes to fish my keys out of the bottom of my school bag.

I was wondering if the whole women’s pockets scenario was something that actually annoyed Lou when I tripped over a large, soft lump on the front porch.

“Hey, watch it.”

The lump was in fact a person. I was awfully tired and unsure of how to react in this situation. What if it was a burglar? Or worse, someone who wanted to rape and murder me and then take all my stuff?

“Um…sorry?” politeness was always the best policy at times like these.

“Will? Is that you?”

“Dad?”

Out of all the people it could have been that night, my dad was not who I would have chosen. The burglar was actually starting to look pretty good.  
“Yeah, came for a chat. Can you let me in?”

I sighed, jamming the key into the lock and opening the door as roughly as possible to send him signals that I didn’t want to talk right now. Or ever.

He came in anyway and talked while I made tea.

“Oh Will, I’ve been meaning to catch up, haven’t seen you in so long but it’s so difficult to find the time. I’ve got work, the kids, football club and you know how it is hey.”

It was sometimes difficult to tell with my dad when he was drunk, but I was reasonably sure this was one of those times, he was talking quite loudly.

“Listen kiddo, I haven’t been the best father to you over the years, I know. What with leaving your mother and all but I promise, I promise I’m going to start being different. See this Christmas, the one coming up, we’re going to have a blast you and me. Just like old times.”

I wasn’t sure what ‘old times’ he was talking about, but he didn’t elaborate. By that stage the tea was ready and he seemed preoccupied with the floral design on his cup. We were quiet for a long while. I had this feeling he was going to say more, and he did.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t treated you as…as I should have over the years. It’s just, you see I don’t think I even know how, how to be a good father you know? My own father was never around much, always working. But my mother, she was…unstable. I don’t think she ever spoke to me purely out of wanting to, you know? Every word to come out of her mouth was to manipulate me, make her feel better. At home, Christ, at home it was only ever silent like, but as soon as we went out with her someplace, she would talk to anyone. Anyone, from old friends she saw in the mall to the homeless guys on the street she didn’t even know and as a kid…well, it’s confusing. It does stuff to ya. I guess you don’t know what’s wrong with you. But it makes it difficult to trust, and to love see, I just don’t know how.”

He sipped his tea, letting out a long contented sigh like this was a normal conversation he would have around a crackling fire, unable to imagine a place he would rather be.

“Your aunt was a bit different, yes. See our dear mother, she only ever wanted one child, a girl. But no, she got two. Bonus. Me. She played favourites like that. She was good at it too. But watch out, if ever we both did something wrong, we’d come home from school to find she’d taped a suicide note to the door. We’d wait for hours in silence sitting at the kitchen table for her to come home. Waiting. Seems like something I’ve been doing my entire life, waiting for something exciting to happen to me. Something brilliant. Surely, I deserve it, after all this.”

He lifted his hands, palms facing upwards, like an appeal to God. I didn’t want to hear it.

“Look, dad, I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me all this, but I’m not the person you need to be speaking to. You gotta go see a psychiatrist or something because guess what, you’ve spent most of my life ignoring me so I’m not the person to come to for pity. Or advice for that matter. Also, I have a maths assignment to do so please, I need a bit of space.”

And he just sort of stared at me for a while. His expression wasn’t one thing. Crestfallen? Lost? Guilty? Angered? Aghast? Confused? Pensive? Maybe all of those things.

Eventually he stood, shuffling in the direction of the door “Yes. Quite. Sorry about that. I, um, I guess I’ll see you at Christmas?”

He was out of my field of vision by this time but I could hear him Turing the door knob “Bye dad.”

He was gone into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit heavier and I don't know how I feel about that. 
> 
> If you're liking this so far, let me know because I will update faster (shock horror). If there is something you're not liking so much I'll be very interested to hear your thoughts and am happy to try new things out.


	5. Chapter 5

“No Cecil, trust me, Yami Yugi is so much better than normal Yugi.”

“He is not! Yugi is hands down the most adorable character in the series. Maybe all the series’ after as well.”

“And Yami is a total badass.”

“He’s also a dirty cheat.”

“Exactly, badass.”

I sighed in an attempt to wipe the grin off my face. “Hey can you two nerds shut up we have a crisis on our hands.” That’s when I pointed at our usual sitting spot. “The bio class got water all over our table.”

Cecil groaned. “No, this means we have to sit on the ground. In the dirt. At a public school. I’d honestly rather be burnt at the stake. There is literally no faster way to get every type of hepatitis.”

Lou Ellen snickered. “Oh please. Do you two not have any common sense? This is a brilliant opportunity to expand our social horizons.”

“Lou” Cecil said, as if explaining a difficult concept to a small child. “There is a reason we all sit together. It’s called having no frien-hey! Where are you going?”

“The swim captain sits in the canteen and I know him pretty well.” Lou Ellen called over her shoulder as she marched in the direction of the canteen, eyes glued to the target table.

“but-” Cecil groaned, looking to me for support for some reason. As if the past years hadn’t taught him we couldn’t change Lou’s mind once it had been made up no matter what.

So, I shrugged my shoulders. It couldn’t be all that bad, “Expanding social horizons?”

While it was much cooler inside, it was also much noisier. I didn’t like it. All the people I didn’t know. The ones I did who were probably judging me for being so weird and uncomfortable. Will, the psychopath who cuts his sandwiches into squares. That’s when it hit me, surely thinking that other people were thinking about me was narcissistic? Which meant I had been a terrible person for the past seventeen years and didn’t even know it which made it so much worse.

I hoped for the sake of my nervous system that we would move back to the old table the next day. It was always so peaceful and secluded there. As we approached the small group Lou was set on joining, my pulse quickened. Nico’s smooth voice played in his mind /‘this doesn’t make us friends, alright?’/ I gulped as I stood facing no other than Nico di Angelo who apparently sat with Percy Jackson and Jason Grace, the popular sport types. How had I not known that?

Percy and Jason broke their conversation and looked up at us three with near identical grins. Nico didn’t even glance up from the book he was reading, ‘The Catcher in the Rye’. That sent shivers down my spine. Hadn’t a heap of murders been obsessed with that book?

Lou Ellen spoke “Hi guys, we’ve been temporarily displaced and were wonderi-”

I cut her off. “Lou, maybe we should sit somewhere else.” She tilted her head at me all quizzically and I squirmed under her gaze. We never actively went against Lou’s plans because they were always so good, but this time all I could think was how this definitely broke the ‘not friends’ rule.

“What,” Nico was smirking at me, dark eyes dancing with mirth, “you scared of us Solace?”

I scowled at that and refused to be put off by the fact Nico also apparently knew my last name.

So, I crossed my arms and sat down defiantly, “No. Should I be?”

Nico laughed humourlessly and opened his book again “I don’t know. Depends on whether you have a phobia of third wheeling, Percy and Jason can be awfully embarrassing.”

“Hey!” The two said in unison before proceeding to explain that they both had very real, very separate girlfriends, leaving Cecil and Lou to wonder how it was that me, game-less Will who never had anything better to do than study, knew the broody enigma that was Nico di Angelo.

~*~

After that, the weeks grew long, and I was beginning to adjust to sitting in the canteen. At first, I had been horrified we weren’t returning to our old table, but Percy and Jason were friendly and unperturbed by the integration of our group into theirs. At some point they told me that they had been worried about graduating because it would mean Nico was alone at school, being a year younger than themselves. As Cecil, Lou and I were all juniors at the time our presence meant perhaps their friend wouldn’t be so alone now.

This exact friendliness led to an entirely new issue, I don’t really want to talk about it, but I must - my physical similarity to Jason. I won’t flatter myself by saying we were doppelgangers, but we each had blonde hair, blue eyes and were roughly six foot. Except, where my hair was straw-coloured and curly, Jason’s was smooth honey that reached effortlessly up into the sky. Where my eyes were internet explorer blue, his were bright and electric google chrome blue. Where I just scraped six foot he was six foot three with strong arms and predictably a six pack, although I had yet to confirm this. In short, he was me but better. Which made me wonder if Nico had been thinking of him all those Friday nights we had spent.

School was becoming awfully strange considering Nico and I continued our arrangement despite a blossoming friendship. If you could call it that. In reality Nico rarely spoke to me. It was almost unsettling, how little he was phased by the whole ordeal.

This was exactly what I was contemplating as I stood on Nico’s doorstep one evening. He seemed to have people who cared deeply about him yet managed to maintain his emotional distance. It was strange, Percy and Jason’s devotion despite the lack of positive reinforcement they received. The first time I went to the house I hadn’t even known who Nico was.

/It was mid-winter and I had been invited to a house party. I can’t remember how, probably by some friend of Lou Ellen, I was never invited to parties. But there I was all the same. Mum had been in the south, attempting to mend the remains of our shattered family while I stayed home to take care of the house. It was better that way, I always seem to act as a catalyst to the short tempers of my family members. As I stood outside the unfamiliar building, I considered turning back. I didn’t belong there, not at a party, not in such a fancy suburb, and especially not in my own skin. Surely a salad and Netflix was preferable to a party of drunk strangers? But Cecil was my ride home. So, I went inside./

Once again, I opened that door; blue, with an elaborate brass knocker; and stepped over the threshold. I thought back to the first time I had realised just how rich Nico’s family was as I opened that door once again. How Nico could easily have bought himself as many friends as he wanted. It was perplexing, the lavishness of the place, yet there were few signs of anyone living in it. The coffee machine was evidently well loved but apart from that it may as well have been a pristine display home.

So, I was on his doorstep and I called out, anticipating the usual ‘upstairs’ that followed, but there was none. That was strange too. The door was open, so Nico had to be home. I glanced around, unsure of what to do. My mind buzzing with all the possible reasons for Nico’s apparent absence, deciding he was probably just asleep, as most teens were on Friday afternoons. I didn’t want to snoop yet I was pulled by the desire to look around a little, considering I scarcely got the chance to and as I spent so much time at the house surely it was inevitable?

/Us three friends had quickly become separated in the teeming crowd. From what I had heard about Nico prior to that night, he was the resident school recluse. He sure seemed to have a lot of friends at his party for a recluse. Parties really weren’t my scene, I didn’t drink or smoke because ethanol is toxic and nicotine addictive. The kids at the party didn’t seem to care about stuff like their livers though. The other thing was, I hated drunk people. Absolutely detested them. Everyone always spoke about how friendly everyone got when they were totally pissed, why did I want complete strangers talking to me? Half the time I didn’t even want to talk to people while they were sober, and I definitely did not want their life story. Apparently, there were plenty of people itching to tell their life stories that night. I was certainly out of place, but I always was, cheery smile painfully juxtaposing the utter turmoil within. It was a recent thing back then, all the confusion, so I figured it was better to just ignore it. Same cheery smile./

I peeked my head into the living room. The walls were a deep and textured red which complimented the warmth of the Persian carpets covering the floor. The sofa set was a creamy white leather and the coffee table was made entirely of glass. Apart for that there was a large flat screen TV and thin black curtains draped across the windows for privacy. It was luxurious, sure, but not relaxed and homely. I couldn’t stand to live in such a place. The stiffness was only amplified by the complete lack of family photos, only some scenic snapshots of what I presumed was Italy.

/Without Cecil or Lou Ellen, I had felt some dull form of panic rise in my stomach. Logically, I knew they couldn’t be far away and I could find them easily, but some part of me said that they would have a better time without me. With that resolve I retreated to find some place quieter and more calming. Upstairs seemed to be a good option.

It was dark, and cool, and quiet on the second floor. There was a bathroom with a stranger vomiting in it, a spare bedroom occupied by a busy couple and a third door yet to be investigated. The door was tucked away in the back-left corner of the house, I figured correctly that it must have led to the master bedroom. This thought made me pause. Was it impolite to sneak into a stranger’s bedroom when the door was closed? Did social rules even apply at house parties? I threw caution to the wind, chose to ignore my reservations and opened the door, figuring the kid hosting the party was probably passed out on a couch downstairs by now anyway.  
It took some time for my eyes to adjust to the dark. The first thing I remember noticing about the room was that it had an en-suite and the curtains seemed to have been poorly replaced, they weren’t properly attached to the railing above the window. The house’s owner had opted for thick black curtains which successfully blocked out all the light from the street outside. Literally all of it.

The second thing I noticed was just how messy the room was, an unusual contrast to the rest of the house. Clothes were strewn haphazardly across the floor along with several towels, electronics and, I grimaced, a bowl still virtually full with left-over instant ramen. Gross. The only thing that appeared to possess any trace of organisation was the bookshelf, completely crammed with paperbacks. There was also a closet and study desk, in a similar state of disarray to the floor.

I sighed really loud, if I was able to control the desire to tidy the stranger’s room then it would do nicely as a hide out. Striding over to the window, I drew the curtains only to find, quite anticlimactically, that there were equally impenetrable blinds separating me from the light emitted by the streetlamp outside. I fiddled with the string, attempting to open the blinds as well. I’m completely incapable when it comes to opening any type of blinds, so I was fighting a losing battle.

“Hello” The voice sounded from behind me and I realised all too late that I had left the door wide open. I would make a wonderful detective, I’m sure you can tell.

The voice continued “Very bold of you coming straight to my bedroom. And without even a first date.”

I pivoted around slowly to take in the scrawny figure of the parties’ host, the allusive Nico di Angelo. Painfully thin and a good head shorter than I was, he was leaning calmly against the doorframe. He was hot. In an anaemic kind of way. His wild dark hair was cut short at the back but managed to somehow obscure his eyes at the front, along with the better half of his face. However, it’s gauntness could still be made out, as could the devious smirk playing on his lips, and his sharp jawline. He had his arms crossed and his nails were painted black, drawing attention to the silver rings he wore. I guess you could have called him lanky, but his lack of height somehow ruined the image, but nevertheless, his legs were long, clad in sinfully tight black jeans and crossed at the ankle. The light attempting to stream into the room from the hallway seemed hesitant to touch him and it backed away in feeble wisps. The dramatism of it all impressed me.

The stranger’s smirk widened as I floundered for something semi-intelligent to say. “Don’t worry.” He tilted his head upwards now so he was looking directly into my eyes “I won’t bite.”/

“Hi”

I thought I might have jumped three feet in the air out of shock as I turned to face the person standing behind me. She wore this quizzical look, head tilted slightly to the side and eyes sparkling with something akin to astonishment.

“Are you looking for Nico?”

She had dark skin and light brown eyes, almost the colour of honey, which was incredibly odd. I thought that they might be contacts. Her hair was the kind of perfect frizzy you see in hair care adds that could never quite be replicated by any sort of perm. The sky-blue jeans she wore were just a bit too short, and she wore a red tank-top and no shoes. Her toes were painted purple.

“Uhh, yeah.” I replied unintelligibly, fiddling with the hem of my jacket.

Her intrigued smile changed to one of kindness “I’m Hazel, by the way. Nico’s-”

“Half-sister.” I finished for her, glad to finally match a face to the name. “I’m Will. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I returned her sunny smile and extended my hand. Her grip was firm.

“Nico isn’t home right now. His out with our father. He would have let you know I’m sure just it was a last-minute thing, you probably missed him by half an hour.”

“Oh.” Was all I had to say.

/“It’s not you I’m worried about.” I had surprised even himself with how smooth I thought that was, but Nico seemed unphased. I tried the name in my head. Nico. It was nice.

Nico scoffed slightly “Is that so?” He didn’t move from his position in the doorway, instead opting to inspect his nails. He looked bored.

I ran a hand through my hair, thinking about how only I would manage to bombard a hot stranger’s room totally by accident. For some reason, I felt really angry about Nico’s apparent disinterest in me. It wasn’t just him of course, it was everyone. I was so sick of my family fighting, of the tension at home. Somewhere that used to be a safe place. It was even worse than when my parents had separated. The most lousy feeling in the world was realising that you were nothing more than a piece in the game that was and is my relatives, where approval and love was a commodity and not a given like I thought it should be. That day when you’re finally old enough and smart enough to see that you’re simply a bargaining chip to the people who are supposed to be there for you. I was over being utterly ignored until the moment I was needed. I always seemed to get mentioned somehow, whether it be someone calling me up to try get me on their side or the snide remarks that were thrown at mum about me when everyone thought I was asleep. How she chose me over them every time. That used to happen a lot when we visited for Christmas break. No wonder I was so deluded when it came to love. So out of touch. In that moment, I flushed red hot with anger as I remembered how little aid mother had received from my wealthy grandparents when she was struggling to pay for food and my tuition fees. They’d sent her a bouquet of flowers. Hell, they weren’t even nice flowers! I often had to remind myself that by being the youngest in the family it was natural to get ignored, and I hated how Nico was ignoring me. Absolutely detested it.

With a surge of confidence, I turned away from the door and headed further into the room, the slightest prickling sensation of Nico’s gaze on my back as I ran my fingers slowly and sensually along the spines of the books on the shelf.

“How about you close the door?” I made my voice kind of deep and barely audible and for a moment, I thought that perhaps Nico hadn’t heard me. But then came the sound of the door clicking slowly shut and Nico padding softly across the floor in his socks.

I took a breath before spinning around to face Nico, who was much closer than anticipated. I grinned, chuckling softly before lifting my hand to cup the side of his face. I brushed the pad of my thumb back and forth across his prominent cheekbone before using my index finger to trace the outline of his jaw before arriving at his chin. He gave no sign he enjoyed it but didn’t pull away. Perhaps that was something. Again, I cupped his chin softly to brush my thumb across his lips. They were surprisingly soft and warm and as I looked into his eyes, black pupils mingling with the outer iris until you could barely tell the difference between the two colours, I saw Nico was looking at my own lips. Perfect. I leant in and ever so softly ghosted my lips across his, so our breaths mingling more than our mouths. He took a fistful of my shirt and pulled me closer, forcing our lips to meet in a dramatic trow of near-passion. Of course, it didn’t mean anything, but it felt good./

“Would you like some coffee?” Hazel asked “Or tea? Juice?”

“Water would be fine thanks. If it isn’t too much bother.” I said.

She smiled at that. “Of course not.” She gestured for me to follow her to the kitchen.

It felt nice. Being in the house with Hazel, sort of cozy nice.

“So how do you know Nico?” She busied herself getting ice from the freezer. I wondered if she usually put ice in her water because when people come over to my house and ask for a glass of water I always give them ice, but I never do it when it’s just me. I was just curious as to whether it was a normal thing.

I cleared my throat and tried to remember the question she asked.

“Oh, school.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“And what were you coming over for this afternoon?”

It was a genuine question, she wasn’t prying or anything, just interested. Which made me feel kinda bad for what I said next.

“Um, a project, yeah. English project.”

That was a complete lie. Which made me panic a bit, I was a terrible liar, and Hazel could tell. I could tell she could tell because she had that mum vibe. The vibe where they always know when you lie or tell only half the truth or something like that. Now I always get told I’m the ‘mum friend’, so I know the mum vibe when I come across it, and I tell you, Hazel knew I was lying.

/Eventually, Nico and I made it onto the bed. Our shirts were off by then but that had been a whole ordeal in itself. When Nico’s shirt came off, it was like God had sent me some sort of angel to explain to me the obsession with going to the gym and working out because boy, did I understand now. I also regretted every decision I had ever made in my life and to hell with study, I needed to go to the gym more. I needed to go to the gym, period.

So basically, the self-esteem I did have was now gone but on the plus side, Nico seemed to be taking his pants off for me. And Hosanna, the jeans were off. That’s when I noticed them. The scratch marks on Nico’s thighs. I couldn’t see properly in the dark, but I pointed to them as best I could.

“What are those?” Instantly, I heard air horns in my mind and I cursed my choice of words. Vine was dead now, I had to let go.

“Oh,” Nico chuckled casually. “Just my cat.”

I figured I should have kept my mouth shut and got back to the task of taking my own jeans off.

“Where’s the cat?” I blurted out, stupid really, but I attempted to make amends “I just mean, I thought Nico owned a cat.”

Hazel looked confused, I liked her, she was easier to read than her brother. “You must be confusing him with someone else. Nico’s never owned a cat, he’s allergic you see.”

“Oh.” I felt like I was saying that too much.

I felt like a total king leaving that night. Or a total badass. A badass king. Which probably wasn’t too shabby for a guy who was previously as pure and holy as the virgin Mary herself. I got up from the bed and slipped into my clothes as soon as we both finished. The regret wouldn’t set in until later.

Just as I was about to leave, Nico spoke from where he was lying sprawled on the bed, “Next week Friday, same time?”

“Sure” I tried to match his nonchalance but probably failed spectacularly.

I left, exit stage right./

I was confused. Why would Nico lie about the cat? I went into proper detective mode, seeking anything mildly suspicious, and nothing in the room was more suspicious than the huge lock on the top drawer next to the sink.

“What’s that?” I pointed to the lock. I probably sounded like a little kid at a zoo or something. I didn’t care.

Hazel followed my gaze “That’s the knife draw.” She tilted her head at me a little as if expecting me to figure out the rest. “Only I have the key.”

She said it like that would answer all the questions I’d ever have, and the ones I didn’t think of too. I switched out of detective mode, I didn’t feel like figuring things out for myself. I’d make a horrid detective, truly. I read the entire Sherlock Holmes series once, including all the short stories, and I thought I was a real sleuth. In reality, I couldn’t solve a crime any better than I could listen to Waitress without crying.

I left about a quarter of an hour later.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *T/W implied self harm*

A week passed. I finally handed in this dumb maths assignment which had plagued me for a month, only to have a second set from my other maths class which was honestly quite upsetting. I swear the education system is just out to get me, throwing new, more difficult assignments around like confetti.

Nico wasn’t at school and despite the reassurance I received from Percy and Jason that he was okay, I wasn’t too sure. I’d seen them talking in awfully uncharacteristically hushed tones before I joined them for lunch one day and noticed Percy’s look of discomfort when I asked after Nico. Which is why I arrived at my usual time on Friday despite the news that Nico was ‘away’.

The front door was unlocked. I made a mental note to scold Nico for it later, he couldn’t have the door unlocked all the time for just anyone to walk in. It was unsafe. Almost as if he was waiting for someone to come inside so he could invite them to tea and scones. The image made me laugh.

The house was quiet, and I ascended the stairs with caution. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps Nico didn’t want me anymore. Maybe he /had/ been going to school, just avoiding me which was why Percy had been acting suspiciously. There were over 2000 kids who attended our school that year, so it was possible. Nico probably didn’t have the heart to tell me he didn’t enjoy the sex anymore. That the novelty of a Jason look-alike had worn off. The thought rooted me to the top stair. It was a scary and, according to my mind, a highly-probable prospect. Oh well, if that was the case, I would have to insist that I still wanted to be friends anyway. Taking a deep breath outside Nico’s room, I placed my hand on the doorknob and twisted.

My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness of the room. The curtains were drawn closely together and seemed to angrily defy the white walls of the hallway. It was cold, the air-conditioning must have been on about sixteen degrees. My attention snapped to the bed as I saw Nico’s form turning to face me. Muscles as chiselled as ever and wearing only his boxer briefs, he gazed up at the only other occupant of his bedroom.

“Will, I forgot you were coming.” I wondered if his eyes were tinged red. “I’m really not up to it today. ‘m sorry, I should have let you know.”

“Are you okay?” I blurted out, a little too loudly.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Nico looked away, fiddling with his bed sheet. I arrived at the conclusion that his eyes were definitely red.

There was silence for some time, the low humming of the air-conditioner and the clicking of the door’s lock as I played with it stood out as much as ‘Hamilton’ at the 2016 Tony Awards.

Eventually, being unable to stand more of the discomfort, I spoke. “Do you just want me to lea-”

“Would you stay with me?” Nico winced at the desperation in his own voice. “It’s just,” he continued, trying again “I don’t…if you don’t mind.”

I blinked, attempting to force the words to make any sense, but my brain was swimming in a sea of time-warping honey. “Uh, yeah. Yeah of course Nico. Just a sec.”

I took off my shirt and shorts, so we could be matching, and climbed into bed. It was there, as I cocooned Nico’s tiny frame in my own that I was able to pull the pieces together. The scars on Nico’s legs from the cat he didn’t own. The way he wore jeans even through the middle of summer. The knife drawer in the kitchen downstairs only Hazel had the key for. This was completely out of my depth.

I rubbed small circles in Nico’s shoulder, hoping it would calm him down. We stayed like that for some time, the orange glow of the afternoon sun that leaked through the bottom of the door shifting to a soft pink and then a deep purple marking the passage of time.

When Nico did speak, his voice was scratchy and strained. “I hate feeling like this. My self-pity. It’s pathetic. So many people really s-struggle and I’m here feeling sad even though my father set me up a fucking trust fund.”

The words made my heart do weird things. Mostly it just made me feel awful.

“Nico, everyone has a right to feel sad. We’re human.” It was true. “But you shouldn’t ever feel you have to be sad all alone.” I pressed a kiss to Nico’s shoulder blade and rubbed more circles into his arm. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” he replied curtly before amending the absolution reluctantly, “…yes.”

“Okay” I loosened my grip on Nico’s arm, allowing him to move so he was looking up at the roof.

He closed his eyes, it took a little while but eventually, he spoke “My older sister Bianca and I were born in Italy. That’s where I grew up. Our father was scarcely around, his banks all operate out of America, so he was here mostly. I remember thinking he was really cool because he always bought us the best presents and he made my mother so happy. They were always so in love.

“But then my mother died, car accident. I was nine and I basically fell into Bianca’s care. She was only twelve. We were moved to New York and my father made sure we had everything we needed. Him and Bianca got along well, I remember they would always have really long phone calls. But we were so far away from him. He was in LA most of the time and rarely visited us. 

“Anyway, two years later, Bianca committed suicide. It was like losing my mother all over again.

“Not long after her funeral I found out about my half-sister, Hazel. I didn’t know she existed until then. Father had never bothered to mention his affairs I guess. He never really mentioned anything to me, Bianca was always his favourite. I thought mother was too. I demanded to meet Hazel because I thought it would be like having Bianca back.”

He seemed to choose his next words carefully.

“Father and I have always blamed each other for Bianca’s death and we haven’t had a calm conversation for as long as I can remember. So, when he visited last week, I don’t know, it just shocked me. I got mad. He told me I needed to ‘move on’. I told him he didn’t know shit about me. I don’t remember exactly what I said but I was so mad, he let me lose my family. So, I told him that I’m gay, before I even realised I was going to. Then I ran off. I don’t know what to do.”

He went quiet then, he was trying not to cry.

I cleared my throat, “You know, I’d never even met half my family until a couple years ago. They live in the south. They disowned my mum when she married my dad because he’s bi. When my parents got divorced they had a renewed interest in us. I tell you, they are the biggest bunch of phonies you’ve ever met.”

Nico laughed a little at that, so I went on. “But the thing is, before that, when it was just mum and dad and all their crazy friends, it felt so good. My siblings and I all grew up with the mentality that you got to choose your family and who you wanted in your life. Even if it hurts, sometimes the people who are best for you, aren’t the ones society says should be.”

We sat there, just breathing together. I thought about how none of my siblings had called since they left.

Nico closed his eyes methodically. “It’s not that simple. I blame him, I blame me, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Bianca for what she did. It makes me feel awful, not being able to let it go when the rest of the world can.”

I scrambled for something to say. “Who found her? Your sister.” I realised too late that heck, that was insensitive.

“Who do you think?”

I let it sink in “I’m just, I am so, so sorry Nico. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t say it like it’s your fault. You’re never anything but nice to me Solace.” His voice was shockingly monotone.

“Everyone deserves kindness.”

Nico opened his eyes, turning his head to look at me, the smallest of smiles playing on his features. “I guess”. He lifted his hand slowly to trace my jaw, my lips, my nose. It felt nice. Being close like that.

After Nico let his hand settle on my chest he let out a soft, soft sigh. “Do you have a curfew?”

“Are you asking me to leave?” I tried not to take offence. Spoiler: I failed.

“No.”

I smiled. “You know, grief is…difficult to understand. It’s different for everyone, but no one ever lets go. Not really. I’m not saying you have to talk to your dad but he’s probably hurting as well. I don’t know him but if he did love your mother I’m sure he’s experiencing his own portion of regret.”

I didn’t really know what I was saying at that point. I didn’t know if I believed it either for that matter, I was just paraphrasing what I saw in the movies. But Nico knew, nodding as he nuzzled further into my neck.

I cleared my throat. “How about I make some food. Are you hungry?”

Nico shook his head and I frowned. “Figures. But your inconvenience of a companion is, so how about we go downstairs and assess what kind of supplies we have.”

We made our way down to the kitchen, making sure to turn on all the lights because the sun had set about forty minutes ago. I opened the fridge, finding it empty. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised, I’d never actually seen Nico eat, it was no mystery why he was so thin.

It seemed a shame how the fridge was running, using electricity just to cool a few jugs of water and a half empty can of Dr Pepper.

The pantry was much the same, containing one packet of instant noodles and a bag of potatoes.

I let out an exasperated sigh “There’s no food here.”

“There’s cereal in the other cupboard.” Nico suggested, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“We are not having cereal for dinner. And besides, there isn’t any milk.” I thought for a moment. “How about I go to the store. What do you feel like?”

“Pasta.” The response was surprisingly quick given Nico claimed he wasn’t hungry. “I’ll give you a list.”

So, I went to the store at the end of the street and bought the things on the list with Nico’s money. 

You know when you go to the same chain of a store but that’s in a different location and you just can’t find anything? Like it takes forever to get the simplest things just because the layout is different but all the stock is the same and it’s just super surreal. Then you start judging where things are put (I mean it’s simply not logical to put eggs next to the yoghurt right? Eggs have to go next to the cheese how difficult is it to mess that up?). But in reality, the whole time you’re just the one who’s incompetent and it’s super demoralising.

Well that’s what my trip to the store was like. I think it took me about fifteen minutes to find the dried pasta alone. I also had ‘Take Me or Leave Me’ from ‘Rent’ stuck in my head which was distracting.

When I finally escaped the store, it was such a good feeling and I whistled little bits of ‘Rent’ as I walked along. I often wonder what passers-by think when I hum or whistle showtunes. Do they recognise them? Do they criticise my preference of musicals? Are they just annoyed I’m disrupting their peace and quiet like that one weird kid who always sings in class? I’ll probably never know.

That’s what I was thinking about when I saw it. This tiny little plant growing out of a crack in the sidewalk. I dropped my shopping bags and took my phone out of my bag. It takes me forever to log into my phone and turn the flashlight on because it’s password protected (it’s also like a Samsung 3 but Eh). I kneeled down to inspect the plant. It was a red daisy. I could tell because it had a red daisy blooming on it. The plant seemed to be pretty healthy, maybe someone in a nearby house watered and fertilised it. I’d no idea how I had missed it on the walk down. I opened my camera to take a quick photo when someone spoke behind me.

“What are you doing? I thought you got lost.”

It was Nico.

I stared up at him. He’d put all his clothes back on. I flushed, realising I was disappointed by this. I don’t know why I was surprised. It’s not like he’d come outside looking for me half naked. Also, dammit Nico was allowed to do what he liked.

I squinted, trying to recall what he’d said. “I’m taking a photo of the daisy.” I pointed at the daisy while I said this, so he wouldn’t think I was crazy.

He stood motionless for a few seconds before snorting and bursting into laughter.

“You can be so adorable,” he half-said half-muttered while picking up the groceries. I just looked at him. “Are you going to take your photo?”

“Yes,” I said defiantly as I smashed the camera button on my phone (I always have to take heaps of photos of worksheets and extra notes because my camera quality is so bad) before standing up. I ran a little to catch up with Nico who by this time was walking back towards his house. It was a lovely night for walking.

“Where’s Hazel?” I asked as Nico opened the front door which, to my horror, had been left unlocked.

“At her boyfriend Franks.” I nodded, following him in. “She’s usually the one who looks after…this.”

He gestured to his entire self in a way that was almost comical. I would have asked if he was joking but was too afraid of the answer being ‘no’ to actually go through with it.

“You realise you’re like the single most capable person at being independent that I know,” I said, watching him tare open the plastic spaghetti bag thing.

He looked at me pointedly, “I forgot to buy food and I’m wearing the same jeans from yesterday. Last time I was productive I had six shots of coffee then fucked around on my guitar for three hours. Not exactly the definition of capable.”

I considered this as Nico partially filled a pot with tap water, “Okay, I admit. Some of your behaviour is incongruous with-whoa that’s way too much salt.”

He glared at me and continued to pour in more salt until he was satisfied, “Do you have an issue with me salting the water Solace?”

I fiddled with the spare button on the underside of my shirt, quickly realising that I’d overstepped the mark in criticising the technique for making authentic Italian food but was unsure of how to correct my transgression.

“Um,” that was how I decided to start off. “Not so much an issue with the method, more with the sheer quantity of-”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me you were such an expert?” He seemed to be having way too much fun with making me regret every decision I’d ever made up until this point in time. “What should I do now chef William?”

“Eh…I’m not sure.”

He smiled, not a triumphant cocky smile, but a soft ‘I’m only playing don’t worry about it’ sort of smile. Which was good because I’d been concerned I was about to be forcibly removed. Not that it would probably be hard for Nico to drag me out of his house, he was a lot stronger than me after all.

He shook his head subtly, “That’s what I thought. Here, chop this onion.”

So, I did as I was instructed, and all went well. I think Nico figured out pretty quickly that I’m no good at cooking so I was side benched a little but that was okay, it was fun to watch. If I could cook half as good as that I would make food all the time instead of buying those pre-made salads. 

That line from ‘Tight Knit Family’ in ‘Falsettos’ crashed into my consciousness, ‘I love the way they cook linguini’. And even though we weren’t making linguini, even though that wasn’t actually the line in the original production of the show, and even though the plot of ‘Falsettos’ doesn’t exactly work out well, it made me feel fuzzy and warm. Kind of like I used to when my siblings were still living at home and we had a mum and a dad who loved each other and cared about us. When mum was a part-time temp, full-time parent and dad was just a happy senior school sports teacher. That stability crashed and burned surprisingly quickly. Not that there weren’t happy moments afterwards, I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder than I was watching mum collect her bachelor’s in business at her graduation. All those years of tireless work so she could provide for us kids and then herself in the future. Not to mention the relentless barrage of hate from our relatives. She was one of the strongest people I knew.

It feels like I’m explaining this out of order, sorry. The pasta was really nice. Probably the best I’d ever had which wasn’t really hard. I panicked when I got a spoon instead of a knife but a rant from Nico plus two instructional lectures later I was pretty much a pro and should be granted Italian citizenship, I’m indecisive enough for it (guys the blue on the Italian flag being for loyalty to their allies is a meme and a half fight me). I desperately wanted Nico to cook more things for me, which I knew was a lot to ask so I didn’t say it out loud. All the same, I imagined what it would be like being able to spend a heap of time with a person you just really like. Like a lifetime. Naturally, it was all just a sappy fantasy, but it can be hideously nice to dream.

The more I thought about it, the more it made me wonder why I was here in the first place. Besides the obvious physical attraction which was more intense than I cared to admit, even to myself, what was it? It was unlike all those nights we spent in each other’s company, something pure in the way my mind became clearer when I was with him. How after our conversations I found a renewed passion in my work, how who I wanted to be wasn’t out of reach at all, I was there already. When we were together, that feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t a blazing fire, nor a violent storm, it felt like sweet flowers blooming. Something that was simply right. I guess that comes with finally feeling comfortable with parts of myself I couldn’t face alone. Feelings about my family and my life that I was now beginning to understand. I didn’t need to hide in my school work and my passion to achieve all my goals anymore, this and my feelings could co-exist in an imperfect and wonderfully messy state.

There was one problem though, because when you fall for someone, sometimes life will decide to throw you a curveball, bitch that it is. My dilemma lay in the fact that with all this love I needed him so much more then he would ever, ever know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long gap between posts (work got kinda epic and I got another job so yeet).
> 
> If you enjoyed this let me know, if not also let me know. Have a good one!


	7. Chapter 7

“Urgh, I cannot believe you guys!” I balled my hands into fists attempting to prevent them from trembling with rage. “Seven years, that’s how long we’ve been friends! And now you just throw me away for a pair of cool kids.”

Percy slurped on his noodles and Jason raised his arms to intervene with the argument, worried expression on his hansom face. Lou Ellen cut him off. “Oh! So you’re the victim here are you Will?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Ever think that we’ve had to put up with your dumb ass for those seven years?”

Cecil took that as his cue to contribute. “Yeah, remember when he went through his Chris Pratt phase? It was excruciating. We must have watched ‘Jurassic Park’ at least ten times. And we had to deal with all those ‘Parks and Rec’ quotes, /constantly/.”

“And that time when he cried while we were watching The Lion King? God, such a baby.”

I was seething, unable to believe my ears. “Mufasa dies Lou, you think any number of Disney sing-alongs can take away that kind of hurt?”

Lou Ellen threw her arms towards the sky. “I am so done with you Will! You’re such a fucking wanker why don’t you just-”

“Guys” The table stilled, it was the first time Nico had spoken to us all without being prompted. “Water isn’t wet, it’s just a fact.”

“Ohhh!” I jumped up triumphantly. “I told you!”

Lou Ellen scowled. “Well technically we still win. Four on two. And two of us are on the swim team.”

I sat down again, almost able to sense physical pain from the scathing look she gave me.

Nico put his book face down, “Yes and I play guitar which means I’m basically a cellist. What I’m saying is that ‘wetness’ is a condition of an object or surface induced by contact with water.” He gestured wildly as he spoke. “You can make a towel more wet. You can make the back porch more wet. You can’t make water more wet.” He seized Jason’s water bottle to punctuate his point. “If you put your hand in water it isn’t wet, once you take it out it is.”

I pointed at Nico excitedly. “Science.”

“Water itself cannot be wet but it can make other things wet.” He took a breath “Water is liquid. But it isn’t wet. Think about dirt. You wouldn’t call dirt ‘dirty’, it’s just dirt, or soil, its presence makes other things dirty. Conclusion, something being wet is only a result of contact with water.”

Lou Ellen and Cecil smirked at each other, they looked like they were about to say something, but Nico scowled at them menacingly. “Don’t you dare!”

Well aware of my friends’ impressive arsenal of sexual jokes and innuendoes, I cleared my throat and addressed the table “I think Nico’s reasoning is pretty sound. Team not wet for the win.”

“No,” Cecil pouted. “You don’t win just because your boyfriend agrees with you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend” Nico spat with surprising venom. Percy and Jason exchanged a look and Cecil raised his hands defensively, as if fearful Nico would launch himself, or possibly an atomic bomb, over the table.

“Alright, alright. Sorry. It was just a prank bro. Just a prank.”

Lou Ellen rolled her eyes. “Besides, Will’s already got himself a certain admirer.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at me, leaving me with no options other than to strangle her or carry out self-imposed exile of my face to somewhere behind my hands. I went with the less violent option. “I told you, it’s not like that.”

“Ooo, what’s the gossip Lou?” Cecil said, I imagined him leaning over dramatically and cupping a hand behind his ear like a teen actor on the Disney channel.

“Well, I missed a single bio lesson and return the very next day to discover that not only did William fail to mourn the absence of my divine wisdom but also acquired a hot, Brazilian lab partner.” I didn’t dare sneak a peek at her expression through my fingers, but I knew she was smirking devilishly. “They totally have googly eyes for each other.”

I felt a deep blush rising in my face. It was tradition for me to deny any form of romantic attraction upon its inception, mostly because I somewhat enjoyed being a cause for speculation among the others but also because if I did admit to any feelings I’d never hear the end of it anyway. However, now the group had been enlarged, I felt a little out of place, like half the team didn’t know the rules. I looked up none the less, finding myself unable to make eye contact with Nico who was staring at me desolately.

“It’s not like that Lou.”

“You gave him your number” she cooed.

Cecil was practically combusting in his impatience. “Who is it, dammit!”

Lou smirked, eyes dancing gleefully as she drew out her response. “Paolo Montes”.

I opened his mouth to reply but was distracted by Nico slamming his book closed and walking off. Percy and Jason gave each other the same look from before but seemed to decide against following their broody friend.

The table descended into silence as we all watched Nico’s retreating figure. I frowned, wondering if I had said something wrong.

Someone cleared their throat. “Okay guys how many holes does a straw have?”

“Oh my God, shut up Cecil!”


	8. Chapter 8

When mum got home that night, I was well and truly tucked away in my room working, soft glow of my computer capturing my focus like a moth to a lamp. My room was generally a pretty clean, comfortable space. It was sparsely furnished, just my bed, wardrobe, and study desk plus chair. A few playbills and pictures of places I wanted to visit hung on the walls and textbooks got piled on the floor mostly, which was sometimes annoying because I would trip over them. I could be a bit absent when it came to cleaning and stuff like that. It just wouldn’t occur to me that things needed to be tidied or that they were in fact dirty in the first place. Mum would occasionally peek into my room and tell me it was a mess and only then did I see that, hey, it was actually a mess. So, I’ll stick with the vaguer description of my room being ‘pretty clean’.

I’d been working on my specialist maths assignment which wasn’t due for another four weeks. I had a policy, start the assignment as soon as physically possible, allowing it to be submitted in both draft and final as the highest quality I was capable of producing. I tried starting assignments the day after they were handed out, giving me some time to think about it but also ensuring I didn’t forget any instructions. It saved a lot of stress later on.

I was so fully consumed by the content that I didn’t even hear mum come through the door.

“Hey Will.”

I turned in my swivel chair (this was one of my favourite things to do ever since mum got to bring the chair back from her office because they were getting new ones. I swing around for dramatic effect like they do in the movies) to see mum leaning on the doorway loosening the tight bun on her head.

“Hey mum, how was your day?”

She did that wiggle gesture with her right hand which means ‘eh’.

“It was fine. What are you working on though? It’s,” she checked her wristwatch, “nearly eleven thirty.”

I fished my phone out of my bag to double check. I normally go to sleep much earlier and it isn’t healthy to disrupt your circadian rhythm.

“So it is. I didn’t realise. I’m working on my specs.”

She smiled kindly, eyes almost doing the sparkly thing but not quiet. “That would do it.”

She yawned. Then I yawned because she yawned. That contagious yawning thing really bothers me. What’s it’s purpose as an ecophenomenon? Copying words or actions makes sense to me, but yawns? Just, why.

“Oh well, don’t stay up too late.”

She turned to go but I had other ideas. “Wait mum, I need to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?” She was back at the door again.

“Well, you see, dad rang me the other day.” It was only half a lie, I had spoken to him after all. “I seriously do not want to go to his place for Christmas.”

Her expression hardened. “I know darling but we’ve talked about this before and you know full well me and your father have shared custody over you.”

“Yes, I know but I think he needs to see a psychologist or something.”

She laughed at that. “Your fathers needed to see a psychologist for years. I mean, how stressful can it be being a sports teacher? You clock off at 2:30 for God’s sake.”

I thought that was a bit unfair. “But can we cut it down to a few days or something a least?”

“No, Will that’s up to you to negotiate with Adrien. I’m not speaking to him about it, he’s difficult enough as it is. Now, goodnight.”

She was gone. I turned back to my homework, it always seemed to provide a perfect distraction from my emotions.

~*~

Several days passed. Nico wasn’t talking to me which made me feel guilty about whatever it was I had done. I spent a lot of time pondering this actually. Soon enough my guilt turned into something more like anger. How was he supposed to expect me to be committed to the whole casual sex thing anyway? It had nothing to do with us as people and was going nowhere. He’d never given me reason to think that it was or even that he might care for me just a little. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, that’s what the rule had been and suddenly it seemed he’d decided to change that without notifying me. Perhaps it was time for this to be over. It had run it’s natural course, gotten super weird, and now was about to be left behind. Done.

Nevertheless, I marched around school in a mood for a few days. I sat in biology and poked angrily at my plant that was supposed to be at least three centimetres taller than what it currently was. I’d given it everything. Sunshine, air, a warm, moist climate and even liquid fertilizer which was better food than I could afford for myself as far as the plant (named Audrey, obviously) was concerned. So, I was sitting there prodding my plant like an idiot thinking that would encourage it to grow when Paolo slid into the seat next to me. He was nearly eleven minutes late to class which wasn’t unusual for him.

“Have you tried putting her outside?” He watched the plant closely as he said this.

I groaned. “No. That would invalidate my data. Besides, there’s plenty of sunshine in here, she’s just obstinate.”

He chuckled in amusement, “At least she knows what she wants.”

“Yeah well she better start providing data that supports my hypothesis or else she’s getting thrown in the trash after all this.”

“Don’t sweat it, my plants are doing shit but it’s all good because excel is easily lied to.”

This made me squirm a little internally, I detested the thought of faking data. What if I was about to graduate from uni and then someone proves I faked my results in year 11 once and bam no degree for me. I laughed at the joke anyway. Sometimes it was important to keep up appearances.

“Hey Will,” Paolo turned to face me, leaning over a tiny bit.

“Paolo.”

“How would you like to meet up over the weekend? For a date.”

I glanced across the class at some kid who had hid his friends plants behind his back and was doing a rather poor job at pretending he didn’t know where they were.

I cleared my throat, “Um…like a date or a date, date?”

Paolo smiled charmingly at me, “A date, date. How’s Friday night?”

I frowned as this technically wasn’t the weekend and he had explicitly stated the weekend. To hell with it, “Yeah that sounds great, what time?”

“9 o’clock, I’ll pick you up.”

This was too late in my opinion, but I went along with it anyway. I had nothing better to do anyway because I was mad at Nico.

“That sounds brilliant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so FYI, I don't know how the different American school systems work but where I studied in Aus you have a bunch of different maths levels and the top one is called specialist maths (specs) but not many people take it because it isn't required for any university degrees.


	9. Chapter 9

Paolo arrived bang on 9:00pm that Friday in his red Jeep. Lou had spent the majority of the afternoon at my house ‘preparing’ me for my first real date. I’m not sure what preparing really encompassed because we seemed to spend most of our time baking cookies then studying together before she picked an outfit for me, which was nice of her. She seemed a little sad, which worried me, Lou was rarely anything other than a ball of excitement and cheeky grins. It was nice to spend time with her all the same.

I don’t remember an awful lot about that night. It was late and the end of a busy week. Paolo took me to the movies. Which was fun. I like films. We shared popcorn and held hands and all that cliché stuff. I’m not crazy about things like that but it was reasonably enjoyable. As the credits rolled, he asked if I’d like to go anywhere else, but I declined and said that I was tired. Which was true.

He drove me home and we just sort of sat talking awkwardly about the film for a while before he started leaning over closer to me. I was a bit weirded out at first and kept backing away while he got nearer and nearer. My brain refused to boot up, thinking that maybe I’d overestimated what an acceptable amount of personal space was. I frowned, there was something I was missing, something I knew was supposed to happen when two people got close like this. The metaphorical lightbulb in my brain burst to life and I realised Paolo was attempting to kiss me, so I let him. He was a great kisser too, so soft and warm and sure.

“Boyfriends?” He said.

I pulled him closer to me again, craving the attention and whispering onto his lips “Boyfriends.”

Then I was shyly saying my goodbyes and walking up the footpath to let myself into the house. It was a good night by any standards.

~*~

“Hey, Will” Jason grabbed a hold of my arm, his gaze sure and fiery. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

I could tell it wasn’t really a question. Which stressed me out a little. Before I got my learners permit, Cecil once described to me the feeling of driving past police cars and speed cameras. He said even though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he would become hyper focused on the other vehicle/camera and inevitably take a wrong turn or apply to much pressure to the acceleration. It was a funny story at the time but as Jason had his hand clenched firmly around my upper arm, I related to it a little more than I would have liked. I nodded, following to a little way away where it was less busy while I tried not to sweat or look guilty.

“What’s up?”

Jason still had that look in his eye, like the usually almost transparent blue of his iris had frozen over. It was unsettling.

Then the eye contact broke and with it the silent intensity. He rubbed the back of his neck “I hope I’m not intruding too much on your private life, but I figure you should know about this.”

I cocked my head to one side, unsure whether I needed to explain that I didn’t actually have a private life because I was a pre-med and never did anything other than study. Luckily, he decided to continue. “Nico and Paolo were a couple about six months ago. But then Paolo cheated and broke it off. Really hit Nico hard.

“Short version is that none of us have forgiven Paolo so, tread lightly. That’s all I’m saying. Sorry again for intruding.”

“Oh,” was the only response I seemed capable of. Hearing my boyfriend had cheated in the past wasn’t the most palatable news.

“Oh well, thank you for telling me.”

Jason gave a small nod before disappearing into the crowd.

About six months ago. That was the time Nico and I had met. 

~*~

The only other time Paolo and I hung out was to play on his Switch at my place. Which was pretty cool. None of my friends owned a switch so it was a first for me. I used to play PC games (mostly Minecraft and Sims 3 let’s be real) but no console stuff so the controls were weird for me.

It was probably that day I realised I didn’t particularly enjoy Paolo’s company. We did more kissing that talking and then I felt strange about it later, like it was something I wasn’t supposed to do. Like stealing cars or using parallel fifths when you compose a song.

He didn’t stay for long anyway, excusing himself by saying he had homework. I did too but seemed to spend a lot of time thinking instead after he’d gone. It was times like these that I needed the guidance of the fairy godmother from Cinderella or something. Not that the ‘a makeover will solve all your problems!’ trope worked, I just needed someone to tell me what to do from here because I sure as hell had no clue.


	10. Chapter 10

I placed my chicken salad in the student fridge, allowing myself to momentarily enjoy the cold air that tumbled out of the door. Obviously, the heat was just transferring from the air particles outside of the fridge to those inside, but I brushed the thought aside, closing the door and zipping up my bag. It was surely too early in the morning for the government to be forcing us to attend school. It must have been be some kind of crime against humanity, without any compensation other than student debts and limited parking spaces. All to wind up in a boring class with a forty-something teacher who wishes they’d pursued some other career reading from a power point that must have been made in 2006. Seemed like a bit of a rip off.

Of course, I greatly valued the opportunity I had been given to receive an education and wished many more people had access to such facilities, but it got quite difficult to look at the positives when without my religious morning coffee.

I was seriously considering skipping study to go source some coffee in town or, you know, drop out, when I was brought to my senses by a glimpse of familiar shaggy black hair. Nico was standing at his locker. Which was strange. The kid was rarely around this early in the morning. Yet here he was, plain as day, in his full JD from Heathers majesty.

Well, it was now or never. I shuffled over to him cautiously, gripping onto my backpack straps for dear life. I’d no idea if anyone had ever encountered morning Nico and lived so I figured it was best to be on the safe side.

“Hi Nico.” I tried my best to infuse enthusiasm into my voice, but I just sounded like someone giving an unconvincing TED talk about re-introducing the prohibition of alcohol.

Nico grunted in response, not looking up from where he was rummaging through his criminally messy locker. I bit back the temptation to ask if he’d modelled it on a dump in the Philippines. Perhaps another time. Using captain Holt quotes on people who were basically captain Holt probably didn’t work anyway.

I shuffled awkwardly. Why did people never stick to the script? I couldn’t properly see Nico’s face as it was obscured by the locker door, but I was rather determined to continue the conversation.

“How was your afternoon? Well, yesterday afternoon I mean, I’m not asking you to prophesize about what you’ll do this afternoon that’s ridiculous although it would be cool if you cou-”

“What do you want, Solace?”

I winced at the use of my surname which would probably be cute in literally any other conversation. “Well, Jason told me about you and Paolo and I just wanted to say…” I didn’t know what I wanted to say. I just wanted Nico to know I knew and for some reason maybe that would prevent the guilt I felt when with Paolo.

“To say what?” Nico’s voice was as devoid of emotion as ever, but his aggressive rummaging gave away his agitation. “That you’re sorry you dated my ex by accident and hope we can still be friends? Well, newsflash Solace, we weren’t friends anyway so although I appreciate your concern, I don’t really care to talk to you right now.”

I flushed red hot with anger at that. “You know, you can be a real dick sometimes!”

Nico rolled his eyes, still focused on his locker. “Jeeze, glad you finally noticed.”

“No, don’t do that. You can’t just shut me out. I actually care about you Nico. But all you ever do is insist that we hardly know each other and I am so sick of it.” I walked to the other side of the locker, so to see him more clearly. “One day, I’m going to stop trying. Have you ever considered that? I might, God forbid, get sick of your stupid game and try and find someone who actually cares about me too?”

Nico had nothing to say apparently and remained fixated on his locker. I hated it. Hated the way I craved his attention, the way I noticed his lips puckering as he scowled, the eyelashes caressing his cheeks. It made me angry. “Would you look at me?” I demanded, hands on my hips.

Nico stilled, only his chest moved steadily as he breathed and tried to focus his thoughts before turning to meet my gaze. His eyes were steely. Not endless and romantic like you read about, when you connect with a person by looking into their eyes and all that shit. No, he just looked sort of sad. Tired and sad.

He looked away. When he spoke, his voice was so soft that I felt ashamed of my earlier outburst. “He was always so pretty to look at, Paolo. And he was nice. He’d shower me with gifts and complements. I thought I was in love.” His tone was bitter, remorseful. “How do we know anything? We’re so young. He wanted to have sex. I told him no. Time and time again. So, he found someone else. For two months. Obviously, I had my suspicions, but he was so sweet. I thought it couldn’t be true. I didn’t even have the guts to end it, he did that too, confessed what he’d done.

“And then you were there, someone who was prepared to have me for a while once a week with no strings attached. Sure, there were moments when I felt like I was manipulating you, like I was using you, like I was disgusting. But you accepted me. And then you helped me out that afternoon and” he shrugged awkwardly “you were real.”

Nico slammed his locker door shut abruptly, a contrast to his complete composure. “I’m sorry. I don’t try to block people out it just happens. I-I get…”  
“Scared?” I offered gently. Suddenly it made sense. It was like Paolo had finally taken something else from Nico. Someone he had almost been ready to trust.

I had to try and fix this. “I stuffed up, hey?” I’ve always prided myself on my ability to state the obvious.

Nico smiled, just a tiny smile.

“Nah it’s fine, I just overreacted.”

Overreacted. Suddenly, I panicked. “Oh god, have you…?” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence so settled for wildly gesturing to Nico’s thighs which, given hindsight and Nico’s confused expression, was a bad idea. “The knife draw.”

Nico’s mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’ and he clutched his arms to his chest “No. No, I’ve been clean for ages now. No.”

That was at least something to be relieved about. “Oh good.” I ran a hand through my hair.

Nico grinned maliciously and unfurled his arms “Sounds like you think pretty highly of yourself when it comes to my personal life. I obviously have nothing better to do than mope around thinking about you.”

My heart stopped again. “I-I was just, I didn’t, I’m not, I swear I don’t.” I buried my face in my hands as Nico cackled to himself. What a comedian. I looked up again carefully “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I worry you’re pushing me away. I’m a worrier.”

“Yes, I see that.”

“I babble too. Quite a lot actually. Probably too much but I never really know how to reign it in.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that too.”

Nico was smiling. Which was good. Smiling Nico was a good thing.

He looked down at his watch, clearing his throat. “Catch you round Will.”

“uhh, yeah, have a good morning.” I waved inelegantly at Nico’s retreating figure who gave a tiny shoulder glance in response.

~*~

“Hey Paolo.”

I caught onto his arm as he moved to leave biology. Lou gave me a look from my right side and I ushered for her to go.

Paolo shouldered his backpack. He was one of those people who wore their school bags on one shoulder. I didn’t do that because it always gave me backpains because of how many textbooks I’d cram in my bag.

“What’s up?”

I took a breath, hoping I was doing the right thing, “I think we should break up.”

Paolo nodded. “Okay.”

That was it. No ‘but why’s, no anger, no heartbreak. That had to be a good thing.

“Okay?” I wanted to confirm I had heard him correctly.

“Yeah well I’d been thinking the same thing.”

It was such a relief, “Oh cool, well, I’ll see you around then!”

“Yeah, see you around.”

Just like that he was gone.

I figured he mustn’t have felt anything either if he was that relaxed about the whole thing. Perhaps that was normal in High School, people dating for a short time then realising it wasn’t going to work out. I left class in high spirits. 

Cecil passed me in the hallway on his way to band practice, one lone earphone in his left ear.

“Cecil, guess what?”

He turned to look at me in surprise, taking his earbud out, “huh?”

“I said ‘guess what’.”

Shrugging he asked, “What?”

“I just broke up with Paolo.”

He still seemed confused. “Am I supposed to congratulate you?”

I smiled, “yes, if you would like.”

Laughing, he shot finger guns at me. “Congratulations for being single man.”

“Thanks,” I sent finger guns back at him and a few people gave us funny looks but it didn’t matter. “Gotta run now. See you later.”

“Yeah,” I heard him call from behind me, “later.”

~*~

“Hey.” I fell into the seat opposite Nico, who was alone at the lunch table submerged in the pages of ‘Othello’.

“Hi,” he said without looking up.

I retrieved my water bottle from the depths of my bag and tried to sound bubbly, but not too bubbly so it was weird. “Guess what just happened in The Great Saga of Will’s Life?”

Nico appeared to be trying and failing to look disinterested in the story.

“What?” he said finally, punctuating his boredom with a page flick.

“I just broke up with Paolo.” What could I say, it was difficult to keep the pride out of my voice. Having always been someone who imagined getting dumped before running off and crying in the bathroom and going through a late high school emo phase akin to a midlife crisis, being the one actually doing the dumping seemed cause enough for celebration. As horribly cold as that sounds, it was true, and I am an honest man.

I turned my gaze to Nico, who was definitely trying not to look interested now. “Oh really?”

I nodded emphatically. “Yes really. Wanna know why?”

His eyes weren’t even moving across the page. “I figure you’re going to tell me regardless.”

“I broke up with him on the grounds I was never in love in the first place.” I grinned. I couldn’t help it. The burden of lying had been lifted.

“Ha! Classic.” Who knew Nico could be so invested in trivial gossip.

“But there was also another reason.”

The silence was palatable, Nico’s eyes were glazed, as if he had entirely abandoned his book, forgotten it was even there.

“I’ve fallen for someone else.”

I’d fallen for Nico, just to clear that up. I mean, I always thought I liked him a little, but it wasn’t until I was bored out of my mind with Paolo and had this oppressing weight of knowing my heart wasn’t really in it did I realise I was genuinely interested in Nico as a person. Sure, he could be a confusing prick at times but the dopamine in my brain said otherwise. It was a nice, pure feeling. Not necessarily strong, more like something I knew was right.

Suddenly, Nico smiled a genuine smile. It was like the sun illuminating the stained-glass windows of a cathedral. Well, God be praised, that smile made me weak in the knees. I felt like taking a photo. You know, for science and all that. But then the others arrived, and it was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one day???

The weekend had finally arrived. Which usually meant I had extra time to revise and complete assignments plus movie night with mum on Saturdays. Alas, Cecil and Lou had felt compelled to interrupt my relative bliss by inviting themselves over.

We were playing monopoly because we’re civilised when Lou switched into her ‘harmless and totally motive free, not a clickbait’ question tone. I debated just crucifying myself there and then, but it probably wasn’t something an atheist was supposed to do.

“So, Will,” Lou began. “What’s been up recently? Anything exciting happen?”

I figured playing dumb was the best approach when delaying impending doom. “Well I’ve got this great chemistry assignment.”

Cecil rolled his eyes as he reached for a community chest card.

“Oh, sounds fascinating,” Lou said.

I perked up at that, “Yeah it’s about the social impacts of climate change mitigation. I chose carbon sequestration and specifically artificial carbon capture, both its storage and possible uses which is really cool but at the same time you’ve got to think is it the best form of management because at the end of the day, the carbon dioxide is still here on Ear-”

“Will, I was being sarcastic, I don’t want to know about your assignments, only your personal life.”

I looked down at the board as I rolled. Seven. Which meant I landed on Cecil’s wretched utility square. He shot me an apologetic look which I wasn’t sure was in relation to me owing him seventy dollars or me being interrogated by Lou. Probably both.

I moved my piece slowly around the board, formulating an answer.

“I’m going to dad’s again for Christmas.” It was the first and only thing that came to mind, I didn’t know what she was after.

“Yikes.” was all Cecil had to say while Lou pursed her lips disapprovingly.

I just kept talking. “Which sucks. He came over here the other day to see to me actually. Which also sucked. It was so strange, like that time my grandma asked me to play piano at her funeral. He was describing to me what I thought sounded like psychological trauma. I’m obviously not qualified to know but it seemed like that, which worries me. It’s just been in my mind, I really want to help him but what can I do? He’s so far away and besides, what can I do for him that he can’t do himself?”  
Lou’s frown deepened. “Will, listen to me. I think you need to go to your father’s house this Christmas, tough it out, then next year when you turn eighteen you never see him again. He shouldn’t be coming around here trying to recruit you or whatever.”

“I don’t know Lou,” Cecil inspected our friend from across the game board. His expression was wary and guarded, like he was seeing something for the first time but not planning on disclosing his opinion. “I think that’s a bit harsh.”

She huffed in response. “Whatever Cecil.”

Her tone was dismissive. Which wasn’t like her and made me wonder if something had gone amyss between them, something I hadn’t seen. For as long as I’d known him, Cecil had been hopelessly in love with Lou Ellen, he’d tried countless ways to get her attention. It made me feel sorry for the guy, pining after exclusively one person year in year out since the moment you laid eyes on them. Becoming so good at masking it like it wasn’t even there anymore. Just deciding you weren’t good enough for requited love anyway. It had to hurt badly. Maybe he’d finally snapped, seen clearly Lou’s shallow ways and turned his affections elsewhere. Or maybe not. Some people were just unlucky that way.

“I’m bored.” Just sometimes I can be good at thinking on my feet, “let’s get some pizza and watch a movie.”

The tension seemed to dissipate after that. We ordered our usual from dominoes (one Hawaiian pizza, one vegetarian, plenty of garlic bread) and decided to watch ‘El Dorado’ (because of nostalgia and because it’s a cinematic masterpiece). We ate and watched the movie in silence, interrupted briefly by mum getting home from work, before making the journey back to my room. By that time, it was almost two pm. We flopped down all together onto my bed, peaceful at last until, “Hey Will.”

“Urgh, what is it Lou?” I didn’t bother opening my eyes to see her expression.

“What’s up with you and Di Angelo?”

So that’s what she’d been itching to know. “Nothing, why do you ask?”

“Oh, you know,” her tone was light, innocent. “Just you never talk to me anymore because you’re always eye fucking him like there’s no tomorrow.”

This was a wild over exaggeration, I chose my next words carefully and decided to swallow my pride for once. “Okay well, I may be…mildly attracted to him.”

Cecil snorted from my left had side, I shot him a glare, meaning my eyes were officially open and my attempt at Relaxed Will tm had failed. My heart rate increased.

Lou picked at her black nail polish. “So, if it’s, as you say, a mild attraction, you wouldn’t have an objection to me letting him know the guy who sits next to me in English wants his number?”

I was unsure whether Random Douchebag from Lou’s English Class existed or was a mere fallacy intended to ignite irrational anger in me. If it was the latter, then it was working quite effectively.

Never the less I gritted my teeth and said, “I suppose that would be fine with me.” I had no right to judge who Nico did and didn’t text.

Cecil made a show of checking his phone. “Would you look at that. The FBI just messaged me, they wanna know why their lie detectors have started going off.”

I explored the only logical alleyways from here. “Firstly, why does the FBI have lie detectors? Secondly, I don’t think there are any lie detectors that actually work unless you count the bogus pipeline but-”

“Will,” Lou’s tone was warning. “quit bullshitting.”

I huffed dramatically, was there any way stuff like this could not be embarrassing?

“Fine. Yes, I confess,” I didn’t know where I was supposed to look, so I chose the ceiling, “Nico is my current…object of affection.”

“Oh my God you need to stop reading so much Shakespeare.” Lou chuckled to herself. It made me grumpy.

“Just because I do the required reading and no one else does…”

Cecil nudged me in the ribcage, “Will you gotta get better at keeping us updated on things like this. We’re your friends. We want to help out.”

“Yeah so we can bash Di Angelo up if he messes with you.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted their help, but I smiled anyway.

“Don’t worry, it won’t get to that point anyway.”

Lou grinned. “What because you’ll be happily married by twenty-five?”

“No, because I don’t think he’s that interested.”

She scoffed, “ridiculous. Eye fucking doesn’t work unless there’s two participants.”

We all laughed together and eventually I waved the two off, preparing to tear into my homework. I was worried about how quiet Cecil had been. Maybe I was overreacting but all the same, I mentally added it to my list of things to be concerned about.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been a long day. Fridays were always about as long as my wait to win the Hamilton lottery (yet to happen at this point) but this one especially so. Most assessment at school was complete as we were facing the last weeks of the semester. It was that kind of wonderful empty feeling where you have the whole Christmas break ahead of you and simply have to survive what’s left of the term i.e. exams and attend class. Simultaneously, it was terrifying as senior year drew ever closer, and with it the impending necessity for decisions to be made and plans executed.

However, at that particular moment, senior year seemed far away, and I was settling down to eat a very homemade ham sandwich when I got a text. It was from my mum and read; ‘Adrien just called, he’s changed his mind about Christmas, you can stay at home over the holiday period if you would like. Just let me know’.

There was a thumbs up at the end which made me smile, mum would go through periods of spamming certain emojis regardless of context - every text for the past month had ended with a thumbs up.

I had to re-read the message several times for it to really sink in. Dad didn’t want me at his house. I didn’t have to spend Christmas with his other kids. I wouldn’t have to start next semester as the same emotional train wreck I had last year.

Then I was inhaling my sandwich, slipping on my trainers, and running to Nico’s house. I wanted to tell him about it. In person, not over text. I’m not sure why, I just had a feeling it was important, and I was tired of overthinking all the time and to hell with it all, I was so happy and finally the pressure of bottling up everything was too much. I had to tell him. When I arrived, Hazel was doing schoolwork at the downstairs table.

I rushed over to her, breathing heavily (I hadn’t run anywhere since dropping out of gym okay). “Hazel, is Nico home?”

She smiled sweetly. “Hi Will. He’s upstairs, just got off the phone to dad about his transfer.”

I nodded. “Oh okay I’ll jus- wait, what transfer?”

“He didn’t mention it to you?” She frowned. “Nico’s transferring to St Peters. You know? That private Boy’s school.”

“I…” all I could think was that St Peters was a Catholic school. This sent my thoughts awry because surely, I would know if Nico was Catholic?

I felt Hazel’s hand on my arm and flinched, gaze flicking to her golden contacts and then away again. Her hair was tied back but little wisps had sprung out and were framing her face. “Are you alright?”

I looked over at the desk where her physics homework sat, partially complete, then to the stairs behind her.

“Uh, yeah. I just have to talk to Nico.”

She didn’t say anything as I slipped from her grasp and bolted up the stairs.

Fantasies flashed through my mind of Nico’s father coldly informing him of his impending transfer. He appeared as a tall shadow, the upper half of his face illuminated by some mysterious light source like Morticia from ‘The Addams Family’. Perhaps he had reacted horribly to Nico coming out and felt the compulsion to send him to a different school.

I didn’t even knock as I barged through Nico’s door, determined to set everything right. Back to how it was.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were transferring?”

Nico looked up from tuning his guitar on the bed. It struck me that I’d never actually seen him play and recalled that moment before I had spoken when he looked so vulnerable, plucking at the strings with a peaceful familiarity. The image was abruptly shattered when he gazed up at me and shrugged, “I didn’t think you needed to know.”

That made me upset. How, after all of this, could he still not trust me to help out.

I shook my head rather violently. “No, no we can fix this. Let me talk to your dad, he’ll change his mind. He’s got to. Or, or you could come live with me and my mum. Or someone else? You don’t have to move schools, it, it’s not happening okay? I won’t-”

Nico closed his eyes, as if attempting to alleviate a mild yet persistent headache. “Will. It’s alright. My dad isn’t making me do anything, I’m moving to St Peters because that’s what I want to do.”

My mouth fell open and I gazed at him wordlessly until he opened his eyes again. I muttered a strangled, “Oh. Well, if that’s what you want, congratulations.”

He set his guitar beside him on the bed. “Yeah, they have this amazing music program there and stuff.”

I nodded down at my shoes, painfully aware that I should probably pretend to be happy for him but not having the composure to do so. It wasn’t fair, that I finally though it was time to tell the truth and that by some mislead logic there was a possibility he felt the same. Obviously, I miscalculated. It’s always amazing how much stuff your brain can just make up. Like eyewitness testimonies. I clenched and unclenched my fists. Trying to focus enough to decide what to do. It seemed the options were to leave awkwardly and feel terrible about myself for eternity, or come clean and feel terrible about myself for eternity anyway.

I took a steadying breath and reached behind me for the brass doorknob before changing my mind. I looked over to where he sat on the bed, beautiful, even when he was miserable.

Explanations were probably in order anyhow. “Listen, I came over here with a purpose and despite knowing we might never talk properly again I kind of need to inform you that I may have, over the past few months, inadvertently, fallen for you. I understand if you can’t reciprocate and am alert to the complexities of the situ-”  
I lost track of what I was saying as Nico scraped a hand down his face. “Jesus Will, you’re going to do this now?”

He looked up at me almost pleadingly.

“Well, yes?”

He didn’t seem to be interested in the answer as he continued on with the questions, “After all these months trying over and over? After Paolo? When we could’ve just, I wouldn’t have to have worried, lied, and let him get away with everything? This whole mess could have gone away.” 

He was waving his arms wildly as if illustrating the heat in his voice. Unfortunately, the pictures made no more sense to me than the words. “What are you talking about? What did you lie about?”

Nico shook his head and wiped angrily at his eyes. “Everything Solace, and you don’t even know it so would you just shut up! You can never just shut up. You don’t know, and you can’t help so just leave me alone!”

That caught me by surprise, I felt tears springing to my own eyes at the harshness of his words. I had been vulnerable, opened up, clearly stated my objective. That shit was supposed to work.

I sniffled and dabbed pathetically at my eyes with the sleeve of my jumper, vaguely aware of the tingle of Nico’s gaze resting on my face, flinched as his arms wrapped around me nervously but didn’t pull away.

His warm breath ticked the hair at the back of my neck as he spoke. “It started with Bianca. She wanted to be an artist. Fine arts. She was good too, applied for this boarding school far away from New York. Three weeks before she died, the acceptance letter arrived. I saw it in the mail and took it, wanting to see what it said. When I saw she got in I was so angry, she would leave me alone to go to some fancy drawing school. I hid the letter, thinking I’d give it to her the next day.

“Every day she asked if there was a letter for her in the mail and I lied to her, every single day, thinking maybe if she just realised how important I was to her, she’d stay anyway.

“It was her way out. Her opportunity to start over. Thinking she’d been rejected as good as killed her.”

He took a deep breath and pulled away, looking down at his palms “I kept the letter, all these years. It was in my possession until about six months ago when I realised it was missing. I rang Paolo in a mess and got him to come over and help me search for it. When I found out he was the one who had taken it I got so mad.

“It was so easy to find out about the relationship between him and that teacher and get a video. I threatened him, told him I needed the letter back or the video was going viral. We fought, he told me he’d show the letter to dad, Hazel, Jason.” He shook his head in defeat.

“Paolo did cheat on me though, I didn’t lie about that. Walked in on him smashing some guy at a party. He and I were still together the night the two of us met, and I slept with you to make him jealous. He and I broke up and it was a stalemate. Five months later, we made a deal, whoever got you to go out with them first had to destroy the dirt they had. He won, I deleted the video and now I’m leaving the school too. My life is fucked over.”

I trembled, barely able to comprehend the situation. It was too much, and Nico looked so hurt and it didn’t make any sense.

“So, are you saying, you never liked me?”

He scowled. “I never said that. Look, it started as just a sex thing and then it was more and, and now it doesn’t matter anymore. What I think, what I feel, it doesn’t matter. I’ve dragged you into this mess enough as it is, and you deserve to be happy so I’m going to ask you to leave now. I won’t be at school tomorrow. Or any day in fact so, goodbye Will.” He straightened up, finally looking me in the eye. “See you around.”

I shuffled dejectedly out of the room, certain only that it would not be the last time Nico and I would speak, I had to fix everything. It was with that resolve that I marched out the front door of the house and pulled my phone out of my pocket, “Lou, I need your help.”


	13. Chapter 13

A good portion of that afternoon was spent devising a plan. It was obvious enough Paolo was playing a game of perceived value and the best thing I could do was make Nico see this. Hence the necessity of a plan. It was a pretty good one too, thanks to Lou. She was the master at stuff like that. Thumbnail on teachers’ seat? Forget it. We’re talking every kid in the school shows up in the same outfit, just to mess with the teaching staff. This plan, however, had nothing to do with harmless ploys to undermine government employees, but you’ll hear about that later.

It was 6:43pm. I was staring at my empty tea cup, thinking about my dad. Hating how after all he put me through, I can still be concerned about him. He seemed to seriously need some help but the people he had in his life weren’t supporting him. I didn’t know much about PTSD and trauma, I wasn’t a psychologist, but it was better to be safe than sorry right? All the same, it wasn’t like there was anything I could do. Adults were supposed to look after themselves, not rely on their kids. Which made me wonder, would he care about me, if something happened? Would he call? Be worried? Probably not because he was a self-absorbed asshole. But what if he wasn’t?

I looked at the time on my laptop once more. 6:46pm. A half-formed idea popped into my head and I was dialling the phone before I even had time to think it through.

A woman answered on the fourth ring. “H. G. and Co how can I help you?”

“Hello, this is Nico Di Angelo speaking and I was hoping you could put me through to my father. He must have turned his phone of again but this is urgent, so I would appreciate your cooperation.”

I realised all too late I had forgotten to do the Italian accent. It would be way too suspicious if I attempted after already having spoken. All I could do was hope this woman hadn’t heard much about the person I was impersonating.

There was quite a long pause. I could almost imagine the loading icons pouring out of the speaker. “What did you say your name was?”

“Nico Di Angelo, your bosses’ son.” Classic move, intimidation. The Ruy Lopez of manipulation techniques.

She considered this for a while as well, “and you can’t contact him on his personal line…because his phone is turned off.”

Her tone was wary, laced with begrudging congeniality. Plus, the last bit was put like a question, I almost thought I got caught out.

“Well I’m not telepathic, I don’t know if it’s turned off, I’m just not getting through. Like I said before, it’s urgent.” I’d read enough articles about acting to know that to properly pass off as a person, you had to become the person, and I couldn’t think of a snarkier thing to say. Perfect.

“I don’t know, I would put you through some security checks, but you aren’t on the system.”

“Of course I’m not on th-look could you just put me through to him? Please?”

There was one final long pause before, “I’m re-directing you now just hold on a minute.”

I got that weird mixture of Jazz and techno music while I was on hold. These pre-recorded messages saying things like ‘we will be with you shortly’ and ‘thank you for your patience’ kept playing in this super relaxed AI voice. It was unsettling, I was already nervous about roping myself into talking to Nico’s dad after pretending to be his son. I’d just started to work myself up about this when someone on the other end picked up. Expecting the gruff voice of a middle-aged businessman I was surprised to hear a young woman.

“This is Tanya, how can I help you?”

“um hi, it’s Nico Di Angelo, I need to speak to my fa-”

“Oh okay honey, just wait a sec I’ll take you through to him.”

She sounded busy, which I supposed was fortunate for me.

All I could hear was what sounded like a door opening and muffled voices before “Nico? What’s the problem?”

Again, the voice was nothing like I imagined. Yes, it was authoritative, but also melodious and level, almost sweet to tell the truth. I gulped.

“Mr Di Angelo, I’m a good friend of your sons, my name’s William Solace. I just wanted to touch base and let you know that Nico has been under a lot of stress and I think he should be seeing a psychologist or something. At least just to check he’s okay.” Suddenly, the plan seemed really dumb. Why would Mr Di Angelo be interested in my opinion even if what I wanted was the right thing?

“Bit drastic calling here.”

He didn’t sound annoyed, which was a good thing, but it was difficult to tell.

“Yes, but drastic times call for drastic measures sir.”

Mr Di Angelo seemed to meditate on this. “I suppose.”

It was becoming quite clear where Nico got his habit of giving short answers from.

He didn’t hang up, so I went on. “Also this whole ‘moving to a new school’ thing is entirely ridiculous. It has to be stopped and he doesn’t listen to me.”

“He doesn’t listen to me either!” He said this with such indignance that I almost laughed.

Then something occurred to me, “He thinks no one accepts him.” Maybe it was just plain distrust that drove him away from me, even after I thought a friendship had been established. Sometimes I think it would be easier to get people to sign friendship contracts just so they know what the premises of our relationship are. It became awfully tiring caring for people more than they cared for you.

Mr Di Angelo let out an exasperated huff, mumbling something along the lines of, “Because he’s always running away.”

I smiled at that, I quite liked talking to Nico’s dad to tell the truth. He seemed to be trying his best but going about it in entirely the wrong way. Circumstance can do that to people.

“All the same I think he really needs some help. Professional help.”

Mr Di Angelo thought about that for a while. The line crackled a little bit and I was briefly worried that I’d been disconnected, but then the voice was back.

“Thank you for calling, I appreciate you care enough to go out of your way and impersonate my son to reach me. Next time just say you’re William who wants to speak to Mr George, it will cause much less confusion.”

I could feel a light blush creeping up my neck, “uh, it was a pleasure talking to you and I’m sorry about the…the…”

Mr Di Angelo laughed, it was hoarse and unattractive like Nico’s but a laugh all the same.

“I look forward to hearing more about you Will. Good night.”

Then the line went dead.

~*~

The next day, Cecil picked me up in his car. He was the only one of our group of three to own a car, if you could call it that. It was more a decaying piece of scrap metal that couldn’t exceed the speed of a horse drawn carriage and probably wouldn’t be deemed road worthy if Cecil wasn’t family friends with the people who owned the garage. Basically, I could say with reasonable certainty that if I didn’t die at the hands of Cecil’s appalling driving then it would be instead a fault of vehicle malfunction. The driving itself was enough to instil fear in even the bravest individuals. If ever /I/ made a mistake driving, it was always due to the curse of overanalysing, the same could not be said for my two friends. Those errors were sheer negligence.

We were on our way to Lou’s when I was struck by an intrusive question. I debated it for a while, trying to remember how people were able to sound relaxed. It seemed as good a time as any to ask, so I did.

“Hey Cecil, what’s up between you and Lou?”

“Me and Lou? Nothing’s ‘up’ don’t be ridiculous.”

I could tell he was lying because of the way his fists clenched the steering wheel.

“Are you okay?” I was primarily concerned about Cecil, he could get touchy, Lou Ellen could pretty well handle herself.

He laughed faintly. “Quit your worrying, I’m fine. /Mum/.”

“Lou was out of line the other day. During monopoly.”

“Yes,” he admitted half-heartedly, “I don’t have it in me to blame her though. I’m not even sure what I did wrong.”

He sounded the definition of not actually fine.

“Do you still fancy her?”

“urgh, yes, I still like her or whatever. I seriously don’t want to think about it right now though. Let’s focus on our mission. I’m not sure it’ll be as easy as Lou thinks.”  
I nodded in agreement, deciding to accept the change of subject. I had had my own suspicions surrounding the day ahead.

~~~

Outside it was bright and clear, although not hot by any means. It was probably a pretty great day too if you were one of those people who liked to be outside. Lou and Cecil had separated from me to prepare for our ambush of Paolo. The plan was to steal his locker key and look for the letter inside his locker. I was positioned so to be largely obscured by a pole which could easily be peaked around to watch people in the hall and to give Lou and Cecil the cue once they were also positioned. If all went well, this would be done before first period had begun. Having never wagged class or missed for any reason outside of being too sick to leave my bed, I was anxious about the possibility of complications in the plan. There wasn’t much I could do about that though. Not now.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down to see the screen light up with a message from Cecil saying he and Lou were ready to go. Glancing down the hallway to check they were in the correct place I flicked a hasty reply in confirmation. Which is when things started going downhill.

“Will, how are you?”

I spun around, instantly recognising the Scottish accent of my junior year English teacher.

“Hi Mr Baird! I’m really well thanks, and yourself?” The false smile seemed to work a little too well because he kept talking.

“Oh yes, oh yes same old. You know I was thinking about you just the other day. Truly, I was thinking to myself ‘what’s happened to William? I haven’t seen him in ages.’ Still want to be a GP? Is that why you aren’t around the English faculty nearly enough?” He grinned at me like it was a possibility to take more than one line of English.

On top of this, I was now upset and agitated because my phone had buzzed two more times which meant Paolo mush be approaching his locker, and Mr Baird thought that for some bizarre reason a GP was the same as an anaesthesiologist. I just sort of laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, I still want to be a doctor.” Sometimes that was just the easiest thing to say.

My phone buzzed again but Mr Baird didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he didn’t care.

“Ah well good luck to you kid. It’s not an easy profession.”

I didn’t really think anything was an easy profession. My phone buzzed again.

“Well it certainly requires a lot of study.”

He nodded like I was a genius who’d just found a way to produce cheap and efficient fusion generated electricity. “Yes, but you’re a hard-working lad. I’m sure you’ll be brilliant.”

Given any other situation I would have been thrilled to chat with my eccentric teacher, but, as the phone buzzing in my hand reminded me, time was of the essence.

“Thank you so much for your confidence sir.”

I glanced over my shoulder, Paolo was at his locker taking out a textbook. I turned back to Mr Baird.

“I really appreciate it. What class do you have this morning?”

Looking over my shoulder again I saw Paolo closing his locker shut.

“Oh yes,” Mr Baird sounded as if he’d been waiting the entire conversation for me to ask this precise question, “the ninth-grade gifted class. Of course, none of them are really that gifted but they’re an interesting bunch.”

I glanced around to give Lou the signal and watch a while as she walked right into Paolo ‘accidentally’. Cecil pocketed the keys so quickly I would have missed it entirely if the glint of silver hadn’t caught my eye. The key chain was quite full, I figured Paolo must have kept his other keys on it also.

I focused my attention on Mr Baird once again.

“Right now, we’re doing the ‘Merchant of Venice’. Bless them, they try so hard, but none will ever quite live up to your performance.”

“No?” I was genuinely surprised to hear this, yes, the theatrical side of English had carried my grade in the past, but it never occurred to be that I would leave a lasting impression on anyone.

“The others lack that same flair and enthusiasm.”

Half of getting good grades was enthusiasm. You have to pretend you’re interested in the content to the point where you actually are. I remember Sir was always impressed by the costumes I’d bring in for English performances. It was only for the extra 5% but by the end of the year I looked forward to organising it.

Mr Baird gazed off into the distance before focusing once again, “Well, it’s been wonderful to catch up Will, but I must go. I need to set up the projector and mentally prepare myself, ‘Carpe Diem’ as they say. Wish me luck. Have a great day.”

“You too Sir.”

I watched him wander down the hall in the direction of his class and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

“Will what in God’s name were you doing?”

I jumped at the sound of Lou’s voice and turned to look guiltily at her and Cecil. I imagined that’s how dogs felt when they were getting scolded for chewing shoes and stuff.

“Mr Baird,” I said forlornly, poking a thumb over my shoulder to provide context.

Lou rolled her eyes and looked at Cecil who was laughing. “Typical,” she muttered.

“I couldn’t not talk to-”

She raised a hand. “No, I don’t even want to hear about it.”

She wasn’t really mad at me; her eyes were all sparkly.

“Let’s focus on the task at hand, shall we? I want to get these keys back to Paolo as quickly as possible, in case he decides to drive somewhere during break and can’t find them.”

Cecil nodded in concurrence, “Yep we should check the locker now.”

I looked nervously around the pole, the gravity of the situation beginning to dawn on me. We’d stolen from Paolo to retrieve something of no real value. We could get in a lot of trouble and wouldn’t even be able to give a valid excuse. It was a bad idea. I imagined Nico. This was valuable to him. Not to mention, if I actually got the letter back, he wouldn’t have to go away. I had to do this.

So, I grabbed the keys from Cecil and walked down the corridor in a way I hoped looked normal and not at all stressed out.

Coming to a halt in front of Paolo’s locker I turned to check Lou and Cecil were still following me, empathising with Orpheus from ‘Hadestown’. Of course, they were still there, talking casually.

The key chain was heavy and cool in my hand and I inspected it to find the right key. After what felt like an eternity, I located the small copper coloured one virtually identical to the one which opened my locker. I turned the key in the lock and allowed the door to swing open easily. Inside was barren, a simple pile of textbooks with some unused exercise books leaning against the side of the locker. I frowned and pushed the books around, hoping to find the letter somewhere at the back where it could have been hidden. But there was nothing.

Disappointed, I closed the locker and turned to face my friends. Despite all of us having suspected it, confirmation of the document not being there put a damper on the mood. It was time for the next step, investigating Paolo’s home.

~~~

“Will, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

I stare back at Lou incredulously. After all the years of going through with her absurd plans she thought it necessary to check I was up to this one. It made me feel incompetent, like she didn’t trust my judgement.

“I’m going with or without you guys.”

Apparently, she wasn’t satisfied with this reply, “You know it’s breaking the law, right?”

“With or without-”

“Come on Will,” I turned to see Cecil holding up his car keys in his right hand and his phone in his left, “let’s go.”

Lou placed her hands on her hips, “Cecil wha-”

“Anyone who wants to come to Paolo’s house can get their ass in my car right now and we’ll go.”

I scrambled to make it into the passenger seat and Lou got in the back, muttering to herself.

“How do you know where he lives?” I asked.

Cecil shrugged. “Looked at his Facebook profile.”

The car ride was brief and silent. We parked a little way down from Paolo’s house and sat in the car for a few minutes. We were probably supposed to be watching for signs of movement, but we were all inside our own heads.

“Okay,” Lou’s voice was quiet yet level, “Cecil and I will ring the doorbell and if someone answers we’re part of a Jewish community youth group. We’ll distract them long enough so Will you can sneak through a window. Alternatively, if someone comes in once we’re inside, we hide wherever we can. Go it?”

Cecil and I nodded and we all got out of the car.

The air was still. There was no wind and it felt like no one was around for miles it was that quiet.

Cecil and Lou stood at the front door and I hid crouched around the side, so I was obscured by the portico for anyone coming out.

I heard the doorbell buzz. Noting. It was buzzed again. Nothing. When on the third attempt there was no response I stood up to unlock the door.

It was dark and cool inside. Which I supposed was good, even if in a creepy way. There was no sound from a TV, or a vacuum cleaner, or anything like that. All seemed good. The floorboards creaked despite our tip-toeing as we crept around in search of what could potentially be Paolo’s room. We found papers with his name written in his infuriating all-caps handwriting style on a desk in one of the rooms. Without uttering a word to one another, we moved to search in different parts of the room. Lou looked through the bookshelf, Cecil around the drawers and nightstand and me the desk, which was quite a task as it was so flooded with papers and books you couldn’t even see the oak underneath.

I moved the papers cautiously, not wanting to disrupt them too much as Paolo might notice if they where re-arranged. My thoughts drifted away and I worried a lip between my teeth, what if Paolo needed a textbook from his locker? What if there was a family emergency and he was needed somewhere off campus? That made me feel terrible, imagine if we were the cause of Paolo not being there to help his family. My heart raced and I tasted blood spring out of my lips. The assignment sheet I was holding fell to the ground with a rustle. I could feel the others watching me as I bent over to collect the paper and attempted to remain calm. The statistics for one of his relatives being in an accident had to suggest the probability of him desperately needing a car was low.

That was when I herd a tiny gasp from my right. I turned to see Cecil knelt next to the bed holding several pieces of paper. He looked at Lou, then me. “Found it.”

~~~

I didn’t read the letter. I never actually got to see what it said and thinking about it now, I don’t even know what Nico did with it. It was tucked safely away in my school bag as Cecil, Lou and I drove back to school though. I sat in the back this time and was anxious to return Paolo’s keys without him noticing.

Once we were parked at school I rushed to grab my bag and reach for the door handle. If we hurried, we could be ready for Paolo to come out of his Politics class and slip the keys into his bag. As I pushed down on the handle I looked up to see Cecil and Lou hadn’t moved from their seats. They simply sat there.

As I opened my mouth to urge them forwards, Cecil spoke. “You know Lou, I’m getting so tired of this.” I had no idea what was going on. “You make me start hoping again and then tare it all up. I know you. Something happens, and you make me start hoping again, and then it stops.” At this point I wasn’t sure what it was I had managed to miss. “I need you to stop. We spoke about it, and then it got worse. I don’t know where to go from here, but I want to cut it off before it happens.”

Lou looked down at her hands. “Did you ever just consider asking me out?”

I looked incredulously between the two of them. This was some real Ron and Hermione hooking up in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts Sugar Honey Iced Tea.

Cecil took a while to reply. “What would you say if I did?”

Lou shrugged. “You’d have to find o-”

“What would you say?”

They were quiet again until, “I’d say yes.” And then they were kissing.

“Guys,” I whined from the back seat. “Can we do this another time like I dunno in ten minutes or, or yesterday please?”

They kept going. “You see we rea-oh forget it.”

Luckily, I still had the keys in my pocket, so I was able to leave them there and continue the mission solo. Had this happened, as I said, any other time I would have rejoiced in the fact that the eternal sexual tension was finally coming to an end, but I needed to remain on task. The task ahead was a difficult one too - finding Paolo during lunch when he could be anywhere on campus. 

I decided to search the cafeteria first. While he mostly made his own lunch at home, Paolo would occasionally buy from the canteen (‘Will, come to the canteen with me, I’ll buy you something’, how had he even figured out the way to my heart was through food?). If this was the case today the cafeteria would be the first place he would go during lunch, thus minimising the possibility of me missing him.

The cafeteria was crowded and noisy as usual which made me anxious. I felt like a child lost at a carnival, the only thing stopping me from removing myself from the awful situation was the fear of landing myself in one even more awful. Out of the frying pan into the fire as the saying goes. I was overcome by the urge to run and hide in some dark corner or closet. It was then that I spotted Jason and Percy sitting at the usual corner table huddled together and talking quickly. It was nice to have an element of familiarity grounding me, it made the space seem less daunting. I took a breath and had a proper look around, seeing Paolo nowhere.

Then I moved on to his usual spot, the auditorium. There were a bunch of kids playing volleyball on one court and basketball on another, with some other students peppered throughout the raked seating up the side eating lunch. I still fail to understand what on earth could possess someone to play sport during break times. I dropped PE the first opportunity I got yet there are still people out there who will voluntarily do sports during their ‘break time’. What’s up with that?

Anyhow, it only took a few scans of the auditorium to figure out Paolo wasn’t there. After having exhausted my first two options there was only one other which seemed logical – the politics classroom.

As I walked back towards the English faculty, I considered that politics was probably how Paolo and Nico had met. To my knowledge there was only ever one line of politics running for each year level so they must have been in the same class. Perhaps they were well suited after all.

I approached the classroom with caution, knowing that if Paolo was in there it would mean a direct confrontation. The door squeaked as I pushed it open, revealing none other than the person I was searching for staring out one of the large rectangular windows onto the front lawn of the school below.

Paolo turned around to face me. “You took your time.”

I adjusted the straps of my bag almost subconsciously. “How did you know I was…?” My sentence spluttered and died as the words tumbled out of my mouth.  
“Your friends aren’t as subtle as they seem to think. However, I am surprised you went through with it.”

“Why didn’t you try and stop us?”

He shrugged, holding his palm out for the keys, which I gladly handed over. “What’s the point?” he said. “I was just going to throw the letter out anyway.”

I frowned. “So, you weren’t going to do anything with it?”

“Of course not,” he checked his watch. “All I ever wanted was that footage deleted. Even if I did cheat on him, Nico had no right to go digging up stuff about me and my football coach for revenge. If he had handed that information in, I wouldn’t be able to go to college. That being said, using the letter as anything other than a bargaining chip would have only been cruel. I never intended to show it to anyone.”

I did have to hand it to Paolo, he seemed to have this specific part of his moral compass sorted out.

“Okay so, no hard feelings?”

Paolo smiled down at me and let out a tiny laugh which, yeah, seemed a little condescending. I first registered something was wrong when I saw pity in his eyes.

“Will,” he said, “Do you have any idea who the teacher in that video was?”

I shook my head, the only thing I knew was that he was a sport teacher at some other school.

Paolo took a deep breath and glanced around the classroom. “He’s a Mr. Adrien Solace.”

Then he patted me on the shoulder and walked out of the room.

I blinked a few times as I felt everything fall into place. No wonder I had been the challenge to decide the feud between Nico and Paolo. It wasn’t because what had happened at the party, it was because I was the son of the teacher in the video.


	14. Chapter 14

I didn’t stick around at school. Instead I sat and waited for a bus that would take me past Nico’s house, so I could return the letter to him, flicking Lou and Cecil a message to let them know the keys had been handed over. Our victory didn’t seem so sweet anymore. The bus had been unusually punctual, so I made it to Nico’s in good time. That little break gave me time to think about a few things. Firstly, that I was glad to have solved the mysterious goings on but also upset because the outcome wasn’t completely conclusive. Kind of like an imperfect cadence, you get hyped for the phrase to have a satisfying ending then there isn’t one. Secondly, I thought about exams which were only two weeks away. Of course, I had started my study plan about a month ago, but I had lagged behind over these past few days when the prep time was becoming more crucial. Mostly though, I thought about Nico. I didn’t blame him for what happened, he seemed to have been played as much as I was. I wondered if he was okay, what he was doing, if he was still going to move to that fancy school. It seemed as though he wanted to, and I couldn’t stop him. Feeling powerless has always been a pet peeve of mine but it always happens somehow. Regardless, all I needed was to check he was okay and then I could go home, and things were going to be okay because how would they not be? I was okay and life was always going to be okay, right?

The bus dropped me a few streets away from Nico’s, so the walk wasn’t awfully long. It was warm though. When I arrived on his doorstep I rang the bell and waited several minutes. I was just about to ring the bell again when the door swung open. I looked up into the eyes of a woman I didn’t recognise. She wore a black playsuit with stars on it and just about the most neutral expression I’d ever seen. Given her muscle tone I assumed she was pretty strong too, could probably have flipped and pinned me to the ground in less than a second, which made me nervous. I began to fiddle with my shirt sleeves.

“Hello,” the woman said.

“uhh, hi is Nico home?” I sounded more lame than I am able to describe with words.

A crease appeared in her brow. “Yes, but he isn’t seeing visitors.”

I nodded to let her know I understood and also sort of so I wouldn’t cry because I really wanted to see him and this wasn’t going to plan. “Can you give him this please? It’s important.”

I handed her the letter, what else was I going to do? She didn’t ask any questions or look to see what it was, she only nodded solemnly and sent me off with a quick goodbye. I left and caught the bus home.

~~~

The house was empty and silent. The walls judged me as I sat and completed a worksheet of mixed biology questions. I wasn’t hungry that afternoon, which was strange. If you could rely on me to be anything it was hungry. Then again, I’d never purposefully broken a rule before so maybe that day was a day for firsts.

Mum returned home late that night, I heard her rummaging through the kitchen before coming into my room. “Hi Will,” she said. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.” I lied.

She smiled at me, her smile was always lovely. “How was your day?”

“Not so good, I felt sick so I stayed home.” This was the best course of action, the online system for school would notify my mum about my absence at some point over the following days so she needed to hear this from me.

“Oh darling, you should have rung the office, I would have come to check on you. Was it just a fever?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Just a fever.”

I thought guiltily about my actions earlier that day. I thought about dad.

She smiled again, sadly this time. “Well you’d better get some rest.”

The repulsive mental image of my father asking a kid the same age as myself to stay just a little longer after practice kept popping into my head.

“Mum,” I spoke more loudly than was necessary. “I have something to tell you.”

She nodded encouragingly. It struck me that the last time I said that to her was probably when I came out. I looked down at my hands. This was /my/ life.

“I, um, got an A plus on that English assignment.”

This was true, just not the same truth it was going to be a moment before.

A huge smile broke out across her face, I never got A pluses in English, only ever in science or math related subjects.

We hugged and she told me congratulations and that it was a nice reward after all my hard work. Her hair smelt like strawberries and her embrace made me feel more at home than I had in years. I wiped my eyes discretely before she pulled away. Yeah, if you asked me what love was, I’d probably describe something like what I had felt in that moment. It wasn’t always good, but it was safe and warm and it was mine.


	15. Chapter 15

The winter holidays were fine. I got loads of study done for the upcoming course topics which was great. Christmas with mum was plenty fun as well. We made cookies and ate them with ice cream while watching ‘Monty Python and the Holy Grail’ on Christmas Eve (it’s tradition) then had a huge lunch the next day just the two of us. I think it made her a bit sad none of my siblings paid us a visit but she pretended to be cheerful so I wouldn’t feel inadequate. Jokes on her because I manage to feel inadequate without her input anyhow, virtual finger guns woo.

I know this sounds sappy but there wasn’t a day where I didn’t think about Nico. Seems that when you don’t have other distractions around, what’s really bothering you manages to float to the top of your consciousness. It’s rather annoying really. I wondered what he was doing, how he was, who he was spending his time with, and why he didn’t text me. Yeah, mostly why he didn’t text me. Naturally, I could text him also, but I didn’t want him to feel pressured to talk to me because if he didn’t want to there was no way he would get that message through to me other than explicitly telling me which I definitely did not want under any circumstance. So, I didn’t text first and opted for feeling tortured the entire break.

Soon enough the holiday was over and I launched back into school, glad to have a distraction. Breaks always gave me extra enthusiasm in my study because I never fully realise how much of my identity revolves around attending school until it’s taken away from me, which all seems a bit sad when I put it on paper.

I was standing at my locker on the first day of the new term, groggy as all hell despite my extra shot of coffee. It was still absolutely freezing, and I was wearing two sweaters. I feel like once in everyone’s life they have to make the mistake of wearing nothing underneath a big jumper. I made that mistake last year and from that day forth have worn only cardigans and sweaters which are easy to layer and adjust to the exact temperature of the room. Today was a two-sweater day.

So anyway, I dug through my locker, desperately trying to remember what I had first period even though I’d checked just this morning, when I heard a thud to my right. I panicked, thinking my life had suddenly assumed the identity of a YA film and I was about to get beaten up by the School Bully tm. When I turned around however, I saw it was in fact Nico. Which made me relieved, then panicked again because he’d been ignoring me.

“Hey.”

His body language was relaxed and his tone was level. I reminded myself that there was probably a perfectly good reason for him giving me the cold shoulder and that I should just wait and give him time to explain it himself because that’s what I would want if I was him.

He was just about to speak for the second time when I lost my nerve, “Am I being annoying, or do you not like me? Why didn’t you text? I mean it’s probably fine that you didn’t just what did I do wrong?”

His lips quirked as he looked at me before shaking his head. “Don’t be silly you haven’t done anything. Apart from interrupting me maybe.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.”

“No.” he laughed properly this time. “Don’t apologise.”

I watched him laugh a little. It was funny, somehow only imagining him for the past few weeks had diluted the sensation of being together. This wasn’t strictly a bad thing because the ordinary boring parts had been diluted too, so reality was almost a letdown. Like banana splits, you go your whole life thinking it’s this amazing gift from the gods then try it and find out that no, it’s literally just a banana with ice cream. Maybe I forgot he was an actual human. Well, he was an actual human that sounded like a drowning pelican when he laughed and I thought it was just a bit wonderful.

“Look,” he continued, ironically not looking at me properly. “I should have texted but then I didn’t. I felt guilty but I also needed to get my shit together and that’s always easier by myself.”

I smiled, getting shit together sounded like a good thing. Maybe even a really good thing. I was even happy about it because Nico was there and so was I and we were talking and having a not terrible time and it was good. I was going to ask how his Christmas was but then the bell went and I remembered I didn’t know which class I had so I pulled my phone out and then it gets a bit blurry but we said goodbye and each went off to class.

The weeks that followed were pretty nice. Usually I found term three the busiest, but the curriculum must have forgotten this pattern. I know Percy and Jason did not experience this as they were flat out and often preoccupied during lunch. Cecil and Lou were enjoying their dating life so were also occasionally absent from the table, meaning Nico and I spent more time with just the two of us. Usually he would read while I studied but we talked also. It was all quite brilliantly imperfect and got me thinking that maybe, just maybe, fate had taken me where I needed to be.

~*~

I stood stuck outside one of the music practice rooms on a Tuesday afternoon. Fragments of the soft, lyrical phrases of classical guitar oozing through the closed door. I contemplated how rude it was on a scale of one to ten to just walk in while someone was practicing. I might not have been a music student, but I figured pretty rude. Instead I hovered outside and peeked through the tiny rectangular window. Nico was hunched over his guitar, sitting on a piano stool. The piece had a steady, unhurried pulse and I thought it was the most beautiful thing I ever heard. Then it all stopped abruptly.

“You realise I can see you in the mirror Solace?” Nico called out from where he was examining his sheet music.

I heaved the door open (which was heavy as a tonne of bricks I might add) and stepped inside, fiddling with my jumper zipper.

“What is it?” Nico put his guitar down and turned to face me.

“I didn’t know you liked classical guitar.”

He pursed his lips, fully aware that I was evading the question.

“Well yes, I’m classically trained. Classical music is just better and more challenging than half the shit that comes out of the music industry nowadays.”

He said this with such conviction that I couldn’t help but pose a counter argument. “If it was so good then why do I know the names of about a trillion pop songs but not the song you just played?”

He glared at me, which of course was ineffective. That was one advantage of being socially inept, I was immune to Nico’s glares.

“People nowadays just don’t know how to listen to and appreciate good content.” He said.

I laughed. “I seriously would have picked you as a punk rock kinda guy.”

“And I seriously would have picked you as a Taylor Swift kinda guy but I don’t say that out loud do I?”

“You are literally wearing a Green Day shirt.”

“Fine, then you’re country and western take it or leave it.”

I whispered to myself, “Only for John Gallagher Jr.”

“What was that?”

“I said I’m into musical theatre.”

His eyebrows just about shot into his hairline. “I don’t know why I’m surprised but I am. Favourite musical?”

“Next to Normal.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“Would you go on a date with me?”

He looked at me for a while, just staring, almost like he was calculating something. Then he stood up, packing his guitar up while speaking.

“No Will, I just can’t. I don’t trust myself. Everyone I know, they just get hurt by me, they get hurt and then-”

“No, they don’t. Give me one example of someone who’s been hurt by you. One. What happened with Bianca, that wasn’t your fault. The letter wouldn’t have changed anything. With stuff like that, everything culminates, over a very long time, it wasn’t your fault, it was just everything. If Bianca loved you as much as you love her then she wouldn’t blame you and certainly would not want you to spend the rest of your life plagued by guilt. It’s okay to look into the future without her, it’s okay to want things for yourself just because you do and it’s okay to let things go and forget.”

I straightened up, speaking with true conviction for what felt like the first time ever, “I’m happy when I’m with you, can’t you see that? I want this. So badly.”

He went quiet for some time, just staring at the odd socks on his feet before, “Okay.”

I smiled, surprised. “Really?”

He looked up at me, running a hand through his hair casually. “Yeah, I mean, you’re usually right.”

That made me laugh, “Damn straight.”

He smirked wickedly. “oh there will be nothing straight about this, don’t be mistaken.”

“urgh,” I said, regretting how easily available I’d made the joke, “that was so cheesy and unnecessary.”

Nico smirked, taking a timid step towards me. “Yet strangely endearing?”

“and the teeniest bit sexy.” I took a step also, virtually closing the gap between us and slowly tipping his head upwards with my thumb and pointer finger.

The kiss was sweet and warm, he pulled away long enough to mutter “You’re so weird.”

I smiled. “Hypocrite”

He hummed into the kiss in response.

The door creaked behind me “Is this practice room free? I need to work on the kazoo concerto in C minor.”

Nico sent the worlds most scathing glare over my shoulder as I turned around, “Cecil!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter will be the last. I haven't written it yet but it won't be a very long one. If you have any loose ends you'd like tied up (just assume I've forgotten the story line) or final suggestions in terms of plot, comment now or forever hold your peace. I am thinking of adding a few extra chapters but at this stage they won't be contributing much to the story x


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